A World Reversed
by reader-chic-2
Summary: In a world where the minority is heterosexuality, Clary finds herself questioning her sexual identity. She was a messed up, secretive girl living with her dads and brother. She was in her junior year of high school when it happened. A month later, a new family moves in down the block with a heterosexual boy and parents. Everything changed when she met that golden angel. AU. AH
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on Youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

 **IMPORTANT: This is an AU and and AH, but this is a world where it is a sin and looked down upon to be straight. I know some people can't see this as realistic. I don't either. The human race would never have blossomed, you know? However, I think I do a good job at explaining how things go on. Just wait for the next chapters and you'll see. BUT.**

 **It is a 'world reversed.' Around the like fifties people thought horribly of gays and lesbians. They think this way about straights and bisexuals here. So.**

* * *

Pastor Hodge walked the stage with that smile that always freaked me out. It seemed so stressed, so fake. I looked to my right at Jonathan. He never tried to hide his boredom during Sunday ceremonies. I envied his strong backbone. Unlike him, I sat perfectly straight, the picture of grace as any gay Christian would. It was perfectly natural to me and didn't hurt my back or neck at all. Of course it'd be natural; I was a gay Christian like everyone else in here.

"My youngest daughter has just turned twelve, did you know?" Hodge clasped his hands behind his back as he walked. "My husband and I saved for two months to take her on a trip to California. It was a big deal. Now when we got there, we saw a play. The play was called Romeo and Juliet. It was about a boy and a girl defying the law, their parents, and their friends because they were 'in love.'"

He paused for effect, giving the entire room time to gasp. I had heard of the play before. We studied it in English. I found it a riveting, if not, inspiring play despite the corny lines. Everyone else saw it as the devil's work.

"I cannot believe they'd let an innocent twelve year old girl witness such sins viewed in a positive light," Hodge continued, chastising. I looked at Jonathan. He rolled his eyes. "It is quite concerning how much we are letting heterosexuals thrive. This…this disease is threatening our children's minds, their lives, and their souls. We have to keep our kid's innocence for as long as possible, but with the way the modern world is turning it has become a horribly hard task."

Everyone in the pews applauded him. I clapped along deftly, hardly listening to his speeches. A round of 'amen's chorused through the old ladies. He looked out into the crowd, meeting my gaze. Of course he did. Everyone did these days. I averted my gaze and tried to shun his words. I could feel the hate radiating from the cynical kids in front of me. A few girls even looked over their shoulders. I looked at my hand as my face heated up. Shame filled me from within.

"Let us pray for those affected by satan's influence. I hope that God will find forgiveness for their families," Hodge began to finish. I breathed out deeply. Jonathan looked at me and nudged my side. His hand held mine for the rest of the ceremony. He helped me through everything these days. Hodge finally exited the stage.

My dad went up next. Valentine Morgenstern was definitely the stern one of the family. It fit that he was on the city council. I took a breath and braced myself. He only went up there when there was big news concerning the town. My other dad, Jo, looked at me and patted my leg. I smiled tightly and kept a straight face. My dads were an odd couple. For somebody so strict, Valentine did a good job at handling my silly, sometimes ditsy dad. Jo was, in the end, a nicer person. He was more attentive to my 'girly feelings.'

"On that topic, I want everyone to know that we have a new family moving in down the street from the church. In fact, they are across the street from my house. Rumours have been spreading fast so I am taking it upon myself to state the facts. You should not be alarmed. If anything, we hope our Christian ways will influence them and their personal decisions. The couple is, in fact, heterosexual, as is their second eldest and adopted son. They have three biological kids, all born outside of breeding season. Even though it is a sin, we should not treat the kids as sins. They cannot help their, eh, parents' mistakes. If there is any problem concerning them or their ways, call me. With that being said, do feel free to welcome them as normal." Valentine walked off stage and let the choir sing as he went. Hodge dismissed up and everyone stood, hugging one another and whatnot.

"You did great, honey," Jo pressed a kiss to Valentine's cheek. He smiled sweetly and looked at me. I kept my lips closed as I smiled and nodded.

Jonathan and I walked ahead of our dads. They were a little gross despite many years of marriage. Valentine loved grabbing Jo's butt, and I just couldn't stand it. "Rough listen?" Jonathan asked. He and I were so close in age so he was basically my best friend. Sure, I had Simon, but he never saw 'at home Clary,' who was slightly weirder than 'public Clary.'

"Jon, I told you," I hissed, looking over my shoulder to make sure our dads couldn't hear. "I'm not a jig."

Jonathan snorted, giving me his classic eye roll. I hated how much he looked like Valentine when he did that. I also hated that I looked nothing like either of them. Figures. My feelings were different sometimes. But Valentine swore to me that Jon and I were born from the same father and same mother. Now that was a rarity. Most siblings were only half siblings.

I saw the house close by. "Sure you aren't, Clary. Wouldn't imagine why I'd think that," he muttered. His eyes looked in the same direction as mine. "What do you think about that family?"

Instantly, I felt my heart harden. They weren't here just to move. They came because somebody here died. "I feel bad for the boy. Isn't he only ten? They sent him to live with his aunt and uncle across the country."

Jonathan sighed. "Yes, and then he found his cousin at the bottom of their pool," he looked pointedly at me. "I guess you would know more about that, though." I stopped walking. My guilt came rushing back into my head. Jon looked over his shoulder, and his smile faded. He ran a hand through his white locks. "Shit, I'm sorry, Clary. That was too much."

I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at my feet. "I get enough of it at school, Jonathan. I don't need it at home," I muttered and walked away from our front door. Simon was walking towards my house behind my dads. As they passed, I took out my pony tale holder and flicked towards Jo, but it hit Valentine instead. He paused and turned around, frowning. "Can you take my pants and shirt inside?"

Valentine dropped his smile, regarding my request with a frown. I tugged the clothes off to expose my tight shorts and tank top. He clenched his jaw and I had to hold back a grin, knowing I was pissing him off. "Clary, why do you insist to dress so…?"

"Feminine?" I laughed, putting my hands on my hips. "You know Simon's moms are both feminine."

"No wonder they are divorced..." Jo muttered. My mouth fell open with a rueful smile. That type of comment was too ignorant to not laugh at, and it came from my own dad!

Valentine regarded Simon with an eye roll. He hated him. He was my closest friend, and was a guy: enough said. "I didn't mean it like that, Clarissa."

"Sure you didn't," I mumbled. He took my man-clothes and followed Jo inside. When the door closed, I groaned. Simon laughed and jumped up on the picnic table we kept outside. I jumped up beside him, leaning back to watch the movers go from the house across from me to the van and back. "Are all parents like mine?"

Simon said, "Nope, you are just extra unlucky. Though, I think Eric's dads almost forced him to wear make up on the first day of high school."

"That was freshman year. It's almost the end of the first semester of senior year." I deadpanned, looking at him. He was soaking up the sun by squinting at it through his nerdy little glasses. I groaned loudly and closed my eyes, lying on my back. "Enough self-pity! What is the newest gossip?"

Simon pretended to be engrossed by the subject. "Oh! Well, I heard Bryce bought tickets to your brother's band for a hundred bucks just to get front row seats."

"God! He's such a perv!" I yelled loud enough for the whole street to hear. I sat up suddenly and saw Simon watching me. Across the street, however, the scene had changed. The moving van was gone, and in its place were four cars. "No – they all have their own fucking car!"

Simon sighed wistfully. "What did you expect, Clary? Look at their house!" He had a valid point. Their house used to be a church, but the years took a toll on it. It had a haunted aura to it. I loved it. It was grand and roomy. I went inside once when I visited Max, the youngest boy of the hetero parents moving in. It was enormous and decorated perfectly. "Why did they move here anyways?"

"It had something to do with Max. He begged to stay here even though the parents of Wi – of you know who moved away," I said, choking on his name. It had only been six days since he died. I took three deep breaths and shoved him to the back of my mind. "And I heard one of their older kids got expelled from school."

"Why?"

I looked at him, "I don't know everything, Simon. Go ask."

His eyes bulged out of his head. "Ask?" he laughed without humour. "No way, just look at those cars. You know somebody hot drives those things." I grinned and looked from him back to the house. One of the doors finally opened.

"Let's go find out," I hissed and jumped off the picnic table. The three other car doors opened. I scanned the backs of them. There was a tall blonde boy getting out of the black mustang. He caught my eye because his hair contrasted so distinctly from his black clothing. Then there was another tall boy with black hair, but he seemed slightly buffer than the blonde. He was also dressed in black. Finally, I saw the girl. She had long black flowing hair and was so much taller than I was. Her body had curves and a decent butt. I forced myself to stare at it in those black leggings, trying to sexualize any part of her body. But all I felt was envy. She had a great body, but the lust was missing.

I faltered in my step when the blonde turned around. I found the lust. He had stolen it all. His face reminded me of those of an angel. His jaw line was never-ending. Golden eyes popped and sparked against his plump, full lips. And his hair seemed like it came out of a model catalogue.

Suddenly, a car whooshed past my face and I fell back. "Clary! Are you trying to get hit?" Simon shouted. I took a breath, trying to force these feelings away. They were wrong. They were so wrong. Surely I was just confused. God made people to form alike groups. Nobody liked being different, so they wouldn't marry somebody different. And He said it was a sin to sleep with the opposite sex outside of the breeding month. The boy was handsome; anyone would admit that. I wasn't blind so of course I felt slightly altered.

I shook my head and continued across the street. The three kids were grouped together by the last open space of their driveway. "Maryse drives like a snail – give her ten minutes more," spoke the blonde haired kid. He saw me first and pushed off his car, studying me. The other two followed suit, watching my every move as I stepped onto their driveway.

"So which one of you got expelled?" I asked, looking from each person. Blondie's gaze held mine for far too long. I tried to force down my blush.

"That'd be Jace," the girl cocked her head towards Blondie. Jace seemed to fit his posture. He tilted his head back, observing me some more. "How did you know?"

I grinned, "This is a small town." Simon coughed from the other side of the road and I looked over my shoulder, rolling my eyes. "Simon wants to know why you got kicked out."

"Why didn't Simon ask?" the girl spoke again, craning her head to look at Simon. Her eyebrows raised in approval. Was she checking him out? That was the look Aline gave me every time I passed her in the hallway. I wasn't used to flirting, but that looked like it. I shuddered. Now that was gross.

"Wimp," I shrugged, looking expectantly to Jace. He seemed to see my gaze for the first time and chuckled. He ran his hand though his hair and looked at me with wild eyes.

"Supposedly, I 'seduced' two girls at school," he deadpanned, waiting expectantly to see my reaction. So he was the straight one. I easily could have pegged that. He radiated hetero vibes, mainly from the way he kept checking me out. My cheeks were burning.

"Supposedly?" I snorted, cocking a hip to the side as I smirked. I vaguely felt like I was flirting and tried to change my posture, but that just made it worse. Stop over thinking things, Clary. You are gay now, just like everyone else. Except Jace.

Jace laughed in surprise. Clearly, they were expecting a totally different response from me. "They caught the three of us in the closet-,"

"How ironic," I muttered. His eyes sparkled with devious mirth.

"One of the girl's moms was the principal, and the other girl tried to sue him when her dads found out," the quieter boy stated. "Look, we really need to unpack."

"Alec, don't be so rude," the girl shoved her brother's shoulder. She looked me up and down. Oh no, if she were another Aline, I'd die. After all the rumours going around at school about me, most of the girls had stopped flirting with me, but Aline was resilient. She was also a whore. "I'm Isabelle, this is Alec, and that's Jace." She gestured respectively to the boys.

"I'm Clary Morganstern. You all-," I was cut off suddenly when a hand grabbed my hair and pulled me hard. I shouted, cringing and following the hand. "Ow, hey! What the fuck?"

"Clarissa Morgenstern, what do you think you're doing?" I recognized the voice as my dad. I'd never seen Jo angry enough to manhandle me. Normally, that was strictly Valentine. Jo released her a few feet away from the group of teenagers.

"Greeting the neighbours," I said too quickly. Jo looked frantically from me to the three teenagers, who were watching this fiasco with mild curiosity.

"Do you know who they are?" Jo whisper-yelled. He looked genuinely scared. "Do you know what your father would do to you if he knew what you've done?"

I scoffed, "What have I done exactly, dad?"

He looked from the kids and back to her again. "Clary, one of those boys is a hetero! No doubt he was fantasizing about doing who knows what to you!"

"But it would be fine if she was, right?" I glared. Jo's mouth fell open, but I knew that look. He clearly wouldn't have had a problem. I turned away and blew out a long breath of air. "Right. Thanks, Dad, for watching out for me. God forbid he might think my hair looks accentuating."

I walked away, muttering curses. Jo followed swiftly behind me, shouting. Simon waved awkwardly to Jo. "Simon, you should really go."

"Right," he said. "Nice seeing you, Mr. Morgenstern."

I looked behind me at the three teenagers. They were laughing their asses off. Despite the trouble I knew I'd be in, I grinned. It was rather amusing seeing Jo being all macho. He entered before me, holding the door open. I turned around at the last second and flipped them off, to which I heard howls of laughter.

"I think it's best if you waited in your room until Valentine gets home, Clarissa." Jo made a beeline to the phone, dialling up the number I knew very well. I hadn't even seen Valentine leave. Sighing, I trudged to the basement where Jonathon and I shared our 'room.' It took up the entire basement space. His bed was in the upper right corner and mine was in the upper left. His band practice space took up below his bed while I had the couch and television below mine. It was pretty sweet except for the minor detail of privacy.

Jonathon was arguing with Sebastian over band politics. "I just don't see why Sebastian or I can't be the lead vocalist!" Jordan shouted, probably for the fifth time. He was very dense. I tried to ignore them by falling dramatically on my bed. When the continued to ignore me, I moaned loudly and sadly. Again, they kept arguing. Boys.

"Will had killer vocals. Yours are far less than pitchy," Magnus pointed out swiftly as he skipped his way over to me. That just sent Jordan off on a whole other rant. I felt Magnus' hands on my shoulders, rubbing me. I sighed happily into the massage. "Oh darling, what's got your panties in a twist?"

"Father is going to kill me when he gets home," I moaned into the pillow. There was no doubt about it. Somehow, I've managed to keep the rumours from them, but what about the truth? Valentine was so extremely positive that Jonathon and I were homosexual that he made jokes about how we'd be out of house and home if we kissed the opposite sex. Those jokes were extremely offensive, but they were also extremely true. If he didn't kick me out, he'd do something to keep from having a jig in his house.

"Our songs are meant for somebody with a high pitched voice, Jordan! We need somebody else."

Magnus continued to rub my shoulders. "Come on, Clary, it can't be that bad."

"It is," I sighed and flipped around. Magnus sat at my feet. "What's this about a new guy?"

He shrugged. "I just hope he's cute. They've got the looks but not for me." Magnus, with his lined eyes and spiked dark purple hair, was a sight to see. He was one of the louder people I knew. I enjoyed that about him, but sometimes it was a little overwhelming. He was always looking for his next one-night-stand and never a boyfriend. He was twenty-three years old while everyone else was eighteen here, besides me. I was about to turn eighteen. Either way, Magnus Bane had gotten around.

The door to our room opened and closed loudly. Two pairs of feet began walking down the stairs. I groaned and buried my face in my arms, preparing for the lecture of a lifetime. "Boys," Valentine's voice said sternly in greeting.

"Would you mind cutting your hobby time short today? We need to talk to Jonathon and Clary," Jo said in his sweetest voice, but I heard the tightness of it. He wasn't going to be on my side this time.

"Sure we'll cut our 'hobby time,'" Jordan muttered as he picked up his guitar. "Bye guys." He and Magnus left swiftly while Jonathon took his time coming over. We sat on the couch while our dads stood firmly in front of us, both glaring.

"What did she do?" Jonathon asked, looking at me snootily. I sighed. Our fathers cleared their throats.

"I know we talked about the family across the street at church," Jo began, "but your dad didn't go into detail about them."

Valentine looked down at us with disgust. "Those sticks are also liars, trying to say they are real Christians. When Clary was talking to the kids," he said with a strained voice, "Jo saw that hetero looking at you."

He and Jo shuddered. My cheeks flamed. Was he really looking at me like they thought? Or were they just being heterophobic as usual? I coughed to cover up the blushing. "We don't want you going around that family, especially you, Clarissa. We don't want that jig doing unspeakable sins to you," Jo spoke in horror, his voice small. He was honestly scared of Jace simply because of his sexuality. My eyes bulged. Jonathon couldn't hold back his laughter this time.

"Has he raped anyone before, Dad?" he asked.

"That doesn't matter, Jonathon. You need to be worried about Clary's safety. Having any man look at her in that way is offensive enough," Valentine chastised. Jonathon tried to muffle his laughter. I couldn't belief how scared they were of Jace. They truly thought he'd try to rape me. Valentine looked at me. "Why did you go over there in the first place?"

I opened my mouth to say the truth but thought better of it. Jonathon already thought I was a jig, or at the least bisexual. My dads were now worrying about the family across the street influencing my orientation. I didn't think like them, but I didn't want them angrier with me than before. Besides, if they caught wind of any of the rumours going around about me, they'd put me into 'therapy' for sure.

So I feigned to be embarrassed. I looked at them and looked away quickly twice before muttering. "I wanted to meet the girl, Isabelle." Jo and Valentine shared a look and sighed. "She's not a jig, right?"

"No," Valentine said shortly. "She's a lesbian, but Clary we don't want you seeing her. And that goes for you Jonathon. Their eldest son is said to be gay, but we don't want you affiliating with their parents or brother."

"Bu-," I pretended to be heartbroken. In reality, I thought my dads were going crazy. 'Influenced by their ways.' I was decently sure if I were straight, I wouldn't need influencing.

"That's final," Valentine snapped. "There are plenty of other respectable girls out there for you, Clarissa."

"You'll find her," Jo patted my leg and turned. Valentine nodded at the both of us and followed beside him, a hand on the small of his back. "Did you hear the Thompson's are moving out?"

"Yes, I did," Valentine sighed sadly. "It's because of those sticks, too, and you know it."

"I heard Jay Thompson almost fainted when they heard they were moving in beside…"

The door finally closed behind them and I looked over at Jonathon. He and I burst into laughter, clutching our stomachs. It was the best way to deal with our simple-minded parents. "Watch out, Clary, he's going to rape you because he's raped nobody else before and he's straight!" I fell to the floor laughing before finally sobering up. Jon offered me a hand and sighed loudly as we settled in the couch. I leaned my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes.

"Why do they hate heteros so much, Jon?" I whispered. He looked at me with pity, knowing my feelings. With my previous actions, anyone would label me at the least bi, something my dads would still loathe. They'd hate me truly hate me. But the orientation didn't change who I was. I didn't see why they'd hate me when it hardly affected them.

No, I wasn't straight. I shuddered. I was just confused. It was a phase, as Simon once suggested. Jonathon said, "They don't understand it so they make fun of it to hide their ignorance."

I fully agreed. They hated jigs because they didn't understand them.

* * *

 **A/N: Ahh! I've been so excited to post this story! I'm new to TMI fan fiction. Now I haven't finished reading TMI. I know; it's crazy. I don't know why. It got a little mushy gushy for me. I'll finish eventually, but it won't impact this. AU and AH.**

 **Who can guess the pairing besides Clace, obviously?**

 **Can I get five chapters? FIVE! I'll update as soon as I get it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

 **A/N: You guys are so rocking awesome! I never expected that much feedback! I really hope I don't disappoint you guys. To me this is some of my best writing so I hope you think so, too. Um, so I made a mistake in the last chapter. Clary is almost 18, not seventeen. And Simon's parents are divorced. Both of these are minor, just thought I'd let you know. Also, the rating will eventually change to M, but I will let you know beforehand. I hope there's not a problem with that.**

 **Now on with the show!**

* * *

I looked in the mirror and groaned. My hair was in a messy bun that would be undone by the end of the car ride to school. I wore sweatpants and a boy's t-shirt, and they'd be off by five minutes into the ride to school. I used to directly disobey them by dressing in girly clothes, but I got tired of their ridicule. Now I just wore tight clothes under the baggy ones and took them off. For instance, today I wore tight black leather pants and a red tank top. My jewelry stash was located in in Jonathon's glove box. My boots and leather jacket were in his trunk. He was very lenient when it came to my preferences. He and I thought alike.

Though most couples didn't have the feminine and masculine roles, my dads' relationship did. Valentine was masculine and he raised Jonathon masculine with a firm hand. He played in sports and played video games. When I came along, he did the same. I just wasn't that masculine. I was into art, tight clothes, and long hair. Jo took my side a lot, which was why I able to buy these clothes, but Valentine would have had my hide if he saw me dressing like this.

"You ready for today?" Jonathon asked as I climbed in his car. I shrugged, trying to stay indifferent. If I acted like I was oblivious to today's assembly, I could convince myself it wasn't all about me. "You know which topic they're going to choose, don't you?" I nodded and looked out the window as he pulled out of the driveway. Seeing this topic wasn't up for discussion, he moved on. "Hey, if you could spread the word that we need a new singer, that'd be awesome."

I smirked, "I don't think you want me associated with your band."

Jonathon snorted. "Hell yes we do," he said. "Sure, the popular kids think you're a weird jig, but we don't roll with them either way. We are a rock band, Clary. Rock bands feed on rebels."

"You think I'm a rebel?" I asked. That was a new angle to look at my past. He nodded with a wistful grin. "How?"

"You are brave enough to withstand the social pressure. If you ended up being hetero, you could really reel in people for our band," he said as if it didn't mean a thing in the world. That was why I loved Jonathon. He honestly didn't care about what I did. He hated how much the rumors got to me, but he didn't think much of my actions. I smiled slightly. "Of course, it's all in the west coast. The east coast really doesn't budge on this stuff. There are still racists here, you know. South, yes, but on the east coast."

"It makes sense. When California became the first state to allow hetero and homosexuals to intermix in schools ten years ago, almost all the jigs moved there, leaving the rest on their own," I agreed. We pulled into the parking lot to see an uproar going on. Everyone was crowded around one car. I looked at Jonathon, sending him a silent message. We ran out of the car into the crowd at the same time, both curious. As suspected, it was Jace's car siting in the middle of the crowd. They climbed out of the car slowly, taking in the whole experience. I watched through people's arms due to my height, only getting glimpses.

People were yelling and calling them jigs and stick lovers. Jace had it the worst. One guy threw a plump girl towards him, yelling, "Kiss this shit!" I felt bad for the girl, but even worse for Jace. Isabelle's eye bulged wide at the sight, and she started laughing. Alec looked unnerved at everything. He pushed through the crowd, and people let him through because they knew the gossip. Jace was straight. They wanted to get to him first. I was pretty sure they wanted to make him leave the school. At least, that's what Simon said he heard from Eric, who heard it from his latest boy toy.

Jace looked at the girl, who ran back to the crowd gagging. He looked into the crowd again, and a devilish smirk grew on his lips. He took two steps towards a certain girl I knew well. It was Aline. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his chest. His lips barely made contact with hers before a bunch of girls yanked her out of his grasp. I gaped. That was the first time I had ever seen a girl and guy kiss.

Aside from myself.

I loathed the burning sensation it brought to my head. Aline punched Jace across the face, but he was already cracking up. Isabelle was too. She walked towards the girl and blew her a kiss, dragging Jace after her. By now, every guy in the place was throwing insults at him, but he seemed to find every one hilarious.

Man, I wished I could be like that.

I turned to Jonathon, gaping. He was grinning. "I think I'll like our neighbors," he said as the crowd dispersed around us. We walked slowly to the front doors, taking our time. Jonathon had spoken in a different way, one I hadn't heard him use before. I recognized it as dark and almost turned on.

"Are you seriously into Jace?" I asked, my eyebrows rising high. "You aren't going to turn him. I don't think it works like that, Jon."

Jonathon stopped in his step. He looked to me like I was a little crazy. I didn't know what I was expecting from him. He'd made constant jokes about my personal life, but this was the first time I had made one about him. "Clary, I wasn't talking about Jace…"

He looked at me as I frowned in confusion. Alec couldn't have been his type. He was so boring and uptight. "Then…?"

"Ew, Clary, are you a hetero and inscestual?" A girl from my grade asked loudly as she walked by, thoroughly ending my conversation with Jonathon. I looked away hoping little eyes were on me.

"That's not even a word… Go on," Jonathon sighed, pushing me towards the gymnasium. "I have to hang up my flyers and then I'll find you."

I nodded and moved with the crowd, looking for Simon. When I found him, he was picking up papers of his that were being stepped on. People laughed as they shoved him to the ground. I gave him a hand up. "Thanks," he said. "Did you hear-?"

"Yes," I said, looking around at the people as we joined them. If I sat near the popular group, I was done for. "I saw, actually."

Simon raised an eyebrow, but I ignored his questioning expression. Meanwhile, the flow of people into the gym took an abrupt halt. I slammed into somebody in front of me and would have bounced back if somebody from behind me didn't take me out. Like a pancake, Kaelie landed on top of her. The boy she bumped into hadn't moved an inch, but he did turn around.

"Watch where you're going, jig," Kaelie grumbled, taking her time as she stood up. I groaned because her knee dug right between my shoulder blades. When I rolled onto my back, I saw her looming over me. And then she spat. I wasn't one to be blatantly pushed around and jumped to my feet, winding my arm back to give her a good knock in the face, but somebody grabbed my arm. Kaelie snorted and looked from me, to my holder, to Simon. "Oh shit, everyone, Fray's making a fucking hetero love triangle! Choose your next victim, stick, but it can only be one!"

I faltered and stopped fighting at her words, looking behind me in confusion. None other than Jace himself stood behind me, calculating the scene. "Thanks a lot, I had her," I grumbled, tearing my arm back to my chest.

"Yes, I could see that by the way you towered over her," Jace stated, owning a serious expression. I rolled my eyes and looked straight ahead, ignoring him.

"Let's go, Clary!" Simon yanked me to my left, whispering because we were in such high danger. I looked at him in surprise. "If you fraternize with him, the rumors will only get worse."

I didn't say anything back because Simon shocked me. Normally, he was indifferent about jigs. He wasn't against them directly here, but he didn't stand with them when everyone else was pushing them down. Simon could tell he upset me, too, but he didn't try apologizing. Instead, we sat in the gym quietly. I noted how we were only a row above Jace and Alec. It was horrid to watch as everyone kept switching places to keep from getting on Jace's right side, as if he was going to assault them.

"Why doesn't Clary move beside them? They can have breeding practice!"

I whipped my head around but couldn't find the culprit. The gym was huge and the rows seemed never ending, with so many guys who could have said that. So instead of cowering away, I stood up. Jace, who was watching me with a curious expression, laughed. I flipped the people behind me off and took a seat directly on Jace's side.

"Clary!" Simon groaned because there were no seats on my other side. I mouthed an apology because his annoying cousin Maureen sat beside him.

Alec's voice snapped me to attention. "Wait, you're straight?"

I narrowed my eyes, leaning forward to see around Jace. "No, I'm not."

"Then why did they call you a breeder?" Jace asked.

"Because I had sex with a guy," I stated. That wasn't the hard part to admit. They could have found that out by about anyone in the school.

"So you're bisexual," Alec said.

"Don't be ridiculous," I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm into girls and only girls. He was just a silly rebellious phase." Jace smirked. He didn't look convinced, and neither did Alec. They shared a look. I pointed to a girl walking up the steps. "Like her…damn she's got a – pretty butt!"

Jace raised one eyebrow, holding back a laugh. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing, you know, because butts are _pretty_." I blanched and threw my face into my hands, laughing at myself. They did, too.

"Shut up," I glared, still giggling. Alec was smiling, so I figured I did a good job at humoring them. The lights flickered above and then half turned off. A spot light was shone on the two podiums. Behind the podiums sat four people on each side. One from each side stepped forward.

"Welcome to December's debate," said the girl on the right. "Today we have two topics prepared. We ask you to decide."

"The topics are A) breeding season and B) boys participating in football," said the boy on the left. "Take your time and consider which debate we should use today."

They waited five minutes. I looked pointedly to Jace and Alec and pretended to gag myself. Jace leaned over, "Your school is soo…modern." I snorted at his totally false statement. They had people cheer for the first topic and then the second. As expected, the first topic won. And the debate was basically brutal. I tried to ignore the most parts of it, but some statements were too ignorant to ignore.

"The more we condone breeding, the more we are letting the breeders sin," said side A.

"If we shortened it for less than a month, half the women wouldn't become pregnant. It doesn't happen instantly." I was for side B.

"The more they breed, the more trauma the breeders must experience, the more PTSD." I laughed out loud at this, as did Jace. He and I shared a look, probably one of the two only people in the room to have had sex with the opposite gender.

"If trauma means remembering it, I wouldn't mind," I whispered. He looked at me and grinned. Alec coughed, covering up his laughing. Jace held up a hand and I gave him a high five.

"On the contrary, some enjoy it," side B said. "As foreign as it is to us, there's a growing trend from the breeders on the west coast who are…heterosexual and enjoy it."

A large murmuring went through the crowd. "And in Alicante!" A girl behind us shouted. Something hit my head. I turned around to find it was a shoe. A shoe. Somebody threw a shoe at me. I saw Kaelie sitting down five rows above me, snickering. I shook my head, deciding she wasn't worth the effort.

While the sides got into a heated argument, the doors opened across from the gym. Jonathon tried to sneak his way into the gymnasium, but he didn't realize he'd have to cross right in front of the makeshift stage. He began the walk, holding his head high while some guys snickered. He was a known hottie of the school.

"That's my brother," I said to Jace and Alec as Jonathon began to make radical hand gestures concerning the topic at hand. A door to the side of the gym opened and Isabelle began to walk to the bleachers, but everyone started booing her.

"Go home to your straight house!"

"You watch your mom and dad have hetero sex?"

"Leave with your stick family!"

"Take your jig brother away!"

"Leave! Leave! Leave! Leave!" The entire crowd began chanting and throwing things at her. I gasped. Jace and Alec stood, ready to beat somebody, but there were too many people to beat up. Isabelle had fallen when three people beamed shoes at her. Isabelle climbed to her feet, a look of murder on her face. She flipped off the entire crowd and stormed towards the back exit, but she stopped when she neared my brother, who was yelling back at the crowd.

I couldn't see what he was saying, but I did see what happened next. Isabelle, with her hard features, glared at him, and he must have cracked a joke because she almost smiled. She looked back at the crowd, debated something in her head, and then grabbed onto my brother's shirt. She yanked him against her and locked her lips onto his. Jonathon was a strong guy. He could have easily pulled away. But he didn't.

Instead, he let Isabelle give the crowd a show. Isabelle had a hand on Jonathon's ass and in his long white hair, trapping him to her. His hands were on her shoulders, but it didn't stop her or him from having a hard-core make out session. At one point, Isabelle broke apart, took her tongue, and licked a long ling up from his collarbone to his mouth. After that, Jonathon shoved her away, eyes wide. He looked from her to the crowd. Isabelle turned to the crowd and yelled in the silence, "Fuck. You!" Then she stormed away in her tall black boots. The crowd went into overdrive, throwing their bags even. Jonathon seemed to remember where he was and ran after Isabelle, yelling threats and curses at her.

I look to Jace. "He wouldn't…" I trailed off because I honestly didn't know if he would follow through with punching her 'jig fucking face in.' Jace jumped into the stairs and I sprinted after him. He was incredibly fast, but I always kept him in my line of sight as we weaved through the halls, following the sound of Jonathon's screaming. The farther away we got, the less hostile they sounded.

Then Isabelle screamed, and seconds later so did Jonathon. Jace rounded a corner and his footsteps fell silent, but there were no screams. When I came around the corner, steps surprised me and I began to tumble down towards Isabelle, Jonathon, and the principal, but two arms wrapped around my waist and slung me around on to the flat area. I gasped, looking at Jace as he sat me down. He checked me over once and said, "Watch where you're going there, Red."

"All four of you. My office. Now."

. . .

"And _why_ Miss Lightwood, did you feel kissing a boy would solve the heterophobic problem?" Principal Aldertree hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Isabelle smiled sweetly up at him, seeing as he sat on the edge of his desk in front of the four students. "I wanted to show them exactly what they didn't want to see, Principal."

"Why did you have to kiss _me?"_ Jonathon growled. He was more frustrated and upset over it now that he had calmed down. "What did I do to you?"

Isabelle looked past Jace and Clary, who were placed between the two to keep peace. "You were there and you were – are hot," she shrugged. Aldertree cleared his throat loudly.

"Miss Lightwood! Watch your mouth, I don't want to hear any of that," he said and looked at Jace and I. "And what parts did you two play?"

"I ran after Jonathon to make sure he didn't assault Izzy, and I assume Red did as well, you know, with her expert fighting skills in that tiny little body of hers," Jace stated, looking from me to the principal. I fought back a smart remark, mainly because I didn't have one.

"Something like that, yes," I sighed.

He groaned and walked to his seat, thinking. "I don't like this in my school, Ms. Lightwood. I don't like what you and your brother has brought to this school." My jaw dropped open. Jace snorted and leaned back in his chair, eager to hear the rest of this blatant, heterophobic bullshit. "I was lenient to let a trouble maker like yourself in, Jace, but this stunt you've pulled here today-,"

"Mr. Aldertree," I chastised, appalled by this. I knew if this situation had been with anyone of homosexual orientation, he would have seen a just cause for each action. I stood up and leaned on his desk, getting into his face. "If you are going to fault Isabelle on kissing Jonathon, a fact which he is more than willing to overlook, then we'd better fault you and your staff on failing to come to the protection of an enrolled student."

He studied me carefully, not appreciating my presence. I felt smug knowing I got under his skin so much his face as growing red. "Ms. Morgenstern, when did you become so vocal?" I narrowed my eyes. "If this has anything to do with Wil-,"

"I am vested in anything unjust, Mr. Aldertree," I cut him off, sitting back down in my seat feeling smaller and less influential than before. It made sense, too.

He paced behind his desk and finally came to a conclusion. "Isabelle and Jace, you both have in school suspension for the first week. This is a warning. I don't want any more shenanigans or even rumors going around about the two of you. My next step is suspension and then expulsion. Am I clear?"

"No, I actually got none of that. Could you speak slower for me, Sir?" Jace said, staring the man straight in the eyes. Aldertree looked more than unnerved. "I'm a little slow. My _disease_ affects my hearing sometimes.

"Mr. Morgenstern, I assure you she will be on her best behavior from now on. As for the now, feel free to visit any of the councilors any of the time." He said, walking around to pat him on the shoulder.

"So you aren't going to punish him for trying to beat somebody, let alone a girl up?" Jace looked at him in the eye, trying his absolute best to get suspended. Isabelle kicked him in the leg.

"Shut up, Jace!"

"Jonathon was sexually assault in front of the entire school," Mr. Aldertree stated, narrowing his eyes. "I understand his rash instincts. If he had acted on them, then things would be different. But he did not. And I do not want to see any more of those sinful kisses from either one of you. You are dismissed."

Isabelle looked from Jonathon and I to Mr. Aldertree with a look of annoyance. There was slight self-pity in her eyes. She stood up and kicked the chair over. Then she left, swinging the door wide open for the three of us to follow. Jace walked briskly, but I caught up to him. He seemed to be less than pleased as Jonathon walked to my other side.

"I take it you siblings don't share the same perspectives," Jace hissed. I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or if it was his natural sarcasm. I ground my teeth because now was not the time for that. Now was the time to have a fucking riot against heterophobics. Okay, that was a stretch but only because we never would have gotten it together.

"Jon isn't straight. It would surprise _you_ if _he_ kissed you," I defended my brother. Jonathon growled at my side.

"Clary! You have it all wrong, fucking shit." He said in a guttural growl. He stormed past. Jonathan knocked harshly and purposefully into my shoulder. I fell to the ground, hitting the same shoulder. Pain lanced up my arm and I groaned. Jace surprised me by yanking my arm harshly, but it got me to my feet. It was the thought that counted.

"You have an adoring family," he stated, blinking and looking at me.

"As do you," I puckered my lips as if I were Isabelle. "She's gay, though?"

Jace winked at me as we walked. "Going to try to get some, jig?" I laughed coldly, elbowing him.

"I don't get that term. Jig. What does it even mean?"

He chuckled. "I am the expert on all things hetero. Jig refers to jigsaw puzzles because they fit perfectly with each other. I'm sure you know what I mean by that. Ironic isn't it? Fitting perfectly sounds like we'd be made for each other or something."

I snorted. "Conspiracy theory much? Don't let everyone else hear it. They would literally burn your house down." We got back to the gym that was now deserted. I couldn't burn that image of my brother kissing Isabelle. I didn't care what he said or others saw. He kissed her back. It was clear. I just hoped nobody else saw it. I suspected they didn't. They probably thought hetero kissing was totally different, in which the girl forced the boy's tongue to do tricks. I actually heard that one after my incident. "Seriously, is Isabelle homosexual?"

Jace snorted. "If she's homosexual, then I am, too." My eyebrows rose, but I couldn't say it shocked me. "Our parents know. She just isn't ready to let the few straight guys here know. She whored around last year because the guys all worshipped her due to low demand."

"Aw," I pretended to pout. "Could Jace not get laid?"

He smirked and leaned down next to my ear, a long stretch for his height. My heart pounded suddenly at the close contact. His breath was warm and sent chills down my back. My hands itched to grab onto those golden locks. "If I wanted to, I could turn any girl straight."

"Including me?" I didn't know where that came from. I basically fed his ego a million calories. It just spilled out.

"Sweetheart, You. Already. Are."

* * *

 **A/N: So I'm thinking of trying to navigate Wattpad (uh oh) and post this story on there, too. Probably not, but if anyone has any cool covers for this story, I'd love to check them out. I would at the least find a way to use it here.**

 **They feedback made my heart leap out of my chest guys. Don't you just love Jace and Clary's flirting? Can I see some positive vibes and reviews for the hot flirting?Can I get ten reviews, super duper please? TEN?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

 **A/N: So I didn't really think about this before, but if this subject is offensive, or you think I am making fun of equal rights, I apologize. I promise you I could't be more for equal rights. I wrote this to help people see some of the struggles people go through for no reason. I just want that out here that I mean no offense to anything by this.**

* * *

For a week, I watched Alec grab an apple and leave the lunchroom. I never understood why he secluded himself from everyone. He was an odd being. I tried talking to him in math, but he gave me a once over and rolled his eyes, laughing at me in my face. After that, Simon and I decided we experienced enough of his self-riotousness.

"He's always looking at Jace in science, Clary," Simon said on Sunday as we sat on the porch outside my house. Alec and Max were outside. The elder was teaching the junior how to do a back handspring. I remembered as child, begging my father to let me accompany Simon to gymnastics for a month. It took no time out of studies, church, or football practice that I had been forced to play. Simon always complained about gymnastics, but it seemed so delightful to me to be flying through the air flipping and jumping and swinging. Now I knew I would have broken at least both my legs and a hip, but I wished I tried. "Clary – they are _siblings."_

"First you try to avoid them because they are straight, now because Jace and Alec look at each other like any lab partner would," I rolled my eyes. Simon wouldn't do anything without my help. I knew he wanted me to find out what was going on.

"They don't even look alike," Simon continued. "I have a theory." This would be good. His theories ranged from ants could speak to each other to God meant for heterosexuals to breed year round. Why else would women be able to become pregnant in the off months, he'd claim. That one was easy to answer seeing as we had covered it in sixth grade. Their bodies prepared for the busy months, and the few random pregnancies were because in rare cases the woman's heterosexual body had conformed to the pressure of getting pregnant in only two or three tries.

"Let Eric listen to your theories, Simon," I groaned. I was positive Eric liked Simon. In some scenarios, it almost seemed reciprocated. Simon always attended his awful poetry readings and Eric would 'brainstorm' science ideas with Simon considering his number one best friend didn't know a lick and didn't intend on learning.

"Jace is his step brother," he said. At least it wasn't long.

"You have a point there," I shrugged. "Jace talks about Isabelle like a sister, though, so I wouldn't see how this adds onto your incest story."

He was jumping up and down with excitement. "Because Isabelle is gay. Jace wouldn't think of her like that-,"

"On the contrary, he had a threesome. I'd bet the girls were at the least bisexual." I had no opinion on the matter. Sometimes, I just liked seeing Simon blow his gasket. I wasn't let down. He jumped off the table and screamed, pulling at his hair. I giggled as he stormed away, saying he'd see me tomorrow.

Monday during lunch surprised me. It was the first day Jace and Isabelle were allowed to go to their regularly scheduled classes. I was expecting Alec to be courteous and sit with them, but he proved me wrong. He did do something of interest. Jason Johnson, a preppy boy who I went to elementary school with, walked to him giggling and looking over his shoulder at his friends for encouragement. I knew what happened next. Jason had always been a loud kid, but only when his friends were around. For the last year, he'd go up to every new cute guy and grab his butt. Normally, they laughed it off or blushed because, yes, he was quite an adorable boy. Alec saw this coming, grabbed his wrist, and flipped him on his back. His foot stepped up to Jason's throat as he growled, "Keep your hands out of my way."

Jace and Isabelle walked in together. Isabelle had a tray of food while Jace looked at it in disgust, grabbing a random fruit off her tray. I discreetly watched them scan the room for seats, but everyone struggled to fill their tables to the maximum. A few people shouted for them to get out of our cafeteria. I enjoyed seeing the way Jace watched an apple fly past his head. He looked at the throwing as if he were a species lower than human. And by the way Jace walked and talked, he though himself to be one higher. Eventually, they sat at a table in the back of the cafeteria that was normally left alone. There weren't many kids in our school. This town seemed small on a map, but I would guarantee if you spent one week here, it'd be ten times smaller.

I looked back at Simon and the rest of my table. It consisted of my science partner, who did all my work, Maureen, and two boys who were so deep into their relationship I was surprised they didn't injure their colons.

I stood and motioned for Simon to follow along. Leaving my tray, I walked across the cafeteria and sat down beside Jace. He and Isabelle spent a good minute staring at me. Jace even cocked his head towards the closest table, listening to the growing whispers of rumors. Simon shakily sat beside me, so close I could feel him trembling. I scooted closer to Jace and looked at his banana. "You better eat that before I do," I said, loud enough so the closer tables could hear. "I love bananas."

Some people gagged, and others called me, "Art freak," "hetero freak," and just "freak" in general.

"That was a little sick, Clary," Isabelle shook her head. I shrugged. "This is Simon, right?"

"Yeah," he sighed, as if she just confirmed his death sentence.

"He's an adorable pet you've got," Jace commented, scrutinizing his looks. I groaned. Simon looked oddly disturbed.

"So, Clary, on a scale of one to ten, how much does your brother hate me?" Isabelle asked with a wicked glint in her eye. I held up the number eight and she cheered, very pleased with herself. "I think I started everyone's winter off well."

"I don't see why she gets all the credit," Jace shoved his banana towards me as he leaned back in his seat. "She stole the kiss trick from me, except the girl enjoyed it with me." I couldn't believe the size of his ego in that head of beautiful hair. It wasn't that he knew he was one of the hottest guys here; he thought he was _the_ hottest one.

"I think the girl enjoyed it during Isabelle's scene a little too much," Simon muttered, earning a slight laugh out of Isabelle.

"Honestly, Jonathon should thank you," I said. Isabelle snorted. "He was lecturing me about how much publicity his band would get if I ended up being straight."

"Yeah, he might be lucky enough to be thrown off the stage with double the trash," Jace whooped half-heartedly, looking at me as he spoke. I blushed and shook my head.

"She's talking about on the west coast," Isabelle said.

"Yeah, the people there understand it a lot more," Simon agreed. Jace snorted.

"No, there are simply many die-hard protesters. If they aren't straight or passionate liberals, then they hate jigs just as much as here. Thing is, there's a ton of protesters," Isabelle said. I raised my eyebrows at this new insight. "We lived in California."

"Wow! No wonder-,"

"Watch it, four-eyes," Jace berated and rolled his eyes effectively. Isabelle laughed.

"So this band? Is he any good?" Isabelle asked. The more she talked about the band, the more I thought she liked my brother. That was a mistake on her part because he was definitely gay. Jace looked at her like she had two heads. He thought the same thing. "What?"

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "They were really good. To be noticed across the country is one thing, but they also ventured to California one summer to play a gig for a weekend." I looked to where Jon was sitting. He was with his band friends and some other semi-popular people, but I knew he hated them. I missed Jon. Ever since Isabelle kissed him, he wouldn't speak to me. He was angry, but I didn't know why. He acted like we couldn't have fun together anymore. "But then their lead singer died."

"Will Herondale," Jace stated with an edge to his voice.

"His cousin," Isabelle sighed sadly. "And a good-looking one at that." Oh trust me sweetie, you had no idea. My heart sped up. Did they know? No, they didn't seem hostile towards me. Simon bumped my leg, to which I stomped his foot harshly. I took a deep breath. They were family. Surely they knew more about his death than I. That was information I desperately needed.

"Your cousin too, right?" Simon asked instead. Dammit.

"No, Jace is adopted," Isabelle stated. Jace, who had previously been staring at his hands, brought one up and did a sad swivel as he pretended to cheer. I studied his gaze. Could I ask him about his death? Was there any information in that slip of paper I had seen?

"See Clary I was righ – Clary? Are you okay?" Simon asked, moving into my field of vision. I blinked and was brought back to reality. I could still feel Will's hands on me. I could still hear his voice as he cried, desperate to be left alone. I could still understand his heartbreak.

"I need to go," I muttered without a thought, jumping up from my seat. I looked at Jace once more and paled. They didn't look alike, but their eyes held that same pain, that same attitude of fire.

Dammit.

. . .

"I told you, Isabelle; you can't have my number. Just show up at three thirty," I said as I pulled my back over my shoulder. She groaned.

"Why?"

"My dads track my phone. Who texts me, what we talk about, etc," I sighed. "They already warned me about your family once."

Isabelle whined and threw her back against the locker beside me. "This town is messed up, Clary." I snorted. "No, I'm being serious. In California, more kids would accept us. Not all, clearly, and not the popular ones, but more than one."

"Simon-,"

"Yes, the tag along," she rolled her eyes. "He has a problem with jigs, not like everyone else, but a problem." That didn't make any sense to me. I shrugged. Understanding Simon was something I didn't see as necessary. "And there'd be hot straight guys! How do you live?"

I blushed, shaking my head. "That was a long time ago. It was a mistake."

"Well, who was it with?" she pestered me. I looked at my phone, noticing the time. I needed to be home before three thirty to help with the band auditions. I shut my lock screen and faced Isabelle.

"Be there at three thirty, if not earlier. We need you especially in and out before my dad gets home, and especially before my father." I said, speed walking towards the door. Isabelle kept up with my pace by regular walking, I noted. Her mouth opened to protest. "No. You plagued us for a week about how awesome his band is. Here's your chance to join in. Once he hears you, all debts will be repaid, I promise."

With that I bust through the doors, searching for Jon's car. He was leaning against it, cursing and looking. I hurried to him, apologizing. He rolled his eyes and muttered something about teenage girl gossip. I shoved his shoulder when we got in the car as he sped off to our house.

We spent the next thirty minutes clearing out our room for the auditions. When things seemed to be in order, Jonathon and I sat on the couch as members of his band began to trickle in. I looked to him. "So…I have a friend coming to try out."

"If it's Simon, Clary, I swear-,"

"It's not him," I insisted, sitting up straight. This caught his attention and he flipped his head towards me, curious. "It's Isabelle."

Jon's face went white. It took him five whole seconds to recover. He went from pale white and frozen to bouncing around the room with energy. Immediately getting up from his seat, he paced in front of me and ran his hands through his long, intimidating white hair. "What the fuck? You can't just drop that on me!"

I swallowed hard. He took this better than I thought. I crossed my arms, holding up the determined look. "Jon, she is really good. The girl can run like crazy, her pitch can drop down and then bounce up like a bungee cord-,"

"That'snottheproblemobviously!" he hissed as his eyes shot to the door and back to me. He seemed to be panicking.

"If she kissed you in front of the whole school, imagine the other straight things she'll be willing to do for publicity and to make a statemen-,"

"Again! Not the problem," he cursed and looked at the clock. Just then, the door opened. The entire band had finished unloading their gear. They looked at him and laughed.

"This one will be fun," Magnus grinned evilly. He looked to Jon and winked, and I swore on my life Jonathon squeaked, just barely, but enough for me to hear. He jumped behind the couch and mumbled to himself, pacing still.

"Dude, the girl who kissed you is trying out," Jordan whistled. "Rad, huh?" I looked at Jordan to analyze him, still unsure about his sexuality. The boy was into music, yes, but rock music. He wasn't into gymnastics, ballet, or anything of the sorts. Jon wasn't into any of that either, but with our parents, he couldn't have been anything but gay. Magnus was all around feminine, doing the classic ballet and classical music training too, about as classical as you could get on drums, but he knew a little violin if needed. Sebastian was a whore. He was into about anything with a dick between its legs. He was vile and would use the weaker, less confident, and innocently hopeful guys. He was trained classically on the piano, but he was raised extremely arrogant…and wore eyeliner. I'd bet he was the only one in the band that didn't full-heartedly thing gays and straights were equals, but we tended to forget that. Jordan never spoke of boyfriends, or guys in general.

Maybe Jordan could be the one to come out.

"Why is her brother with her, though?" Sebastian snorted as he entered the room, plopping down beside me. I looked directly at him, making sure he was serious. When I saw he was, I almost groaned. I really didn't need more of Jace's time. Lunch was hard enough. Ever since his stupid comment, I couldn't shake the idea away from me. Did I seem hetero to him? What made him think it was more than a phase? His eyes had pierced into mine so deeply it was hard not to believe him.

The knock on the door came too soon, and I jolted up. But when Isabelle entered, Jace didn't follow her. Alec, of all people, came along. Max did, too. He looked excitedly around until seeing me. I waved nervously, craning my head to make sure they were done. They were. Max held up his right hand full of comic books and bounded over to me. Sebastian looked with disgust at the two nerds and left, giving us room.

"Here for the auditions?" Magnus, suddenly very enthusiastic about it all, stepped forward, looking the two up and down.

"She is," Alec said curtly, avoiding looking directly into his eyes for as long as possible. That was always a short time concerning Magnus. His catlike eyes were easy to entice and hard to look away. "After she joins-,"

"That's an if," Magnus pointed out, sitting on the back of the couch above my head. I listened while flipping through pages with Max as he read and commented.

Alec sighed impatiently. "Sure. When she joins, I think it's time you all get a manager. That is only if you are serious, of course."

"You're a manager?" I scoffed, turning around. He stared at me with distaste. I suddenly felt self-conscious of my tiny height. It was a good thing I was sitting.

"He managed a band back in California so he knows a lot of people. They split up, though." Isabelle nodded, walking towards the clearing. She pulled up the microphone and stand, looking over the song selections the boys had. She smiled with her deep red lips.

I looked to Jon, expecting him to be hiding behind Sebastian or something. Instead, he was just watching Isabelle very intently. It was more than being freaked out or scared – it was just deeply intense, like he could see into her soul. Honestly, I didn't like it. Whatever that was, it made me doubt. I didn't know what I doubted, but I knew I was missing something.

"All the way in California?" Jordan asked.

Alec nodded, looking around the space slowly. "I've been here for almost two weeks." He looked back at Magnus, thinking he as the bandleader. I found that amusing. Normally, Jonathon would have been angry, but he was still studying Isabelle. "You don't stand a chance here, not with your reputations or what you stand for. But in California, they'll eat it up – _if_ you know what you're doing. And I do."

Magnus grinned like he was making an unfair trade in monopoly that would only benefit him. He didn't even look at the other members. "Yes."

"What?" Jonathon finally snapped out of it. He looked at Magnus and laughed. "Hell no. First, you are all talk. Second, we have to take Isabelle for you too, right? Lastly, _I'm_ the leader. I make the final call. And still, we vote on it."

Isabelle groaned, "Oh don't get your panties in a wad. You and your buddies can vote later. Just listen to me first."

Jonathon sighed and nodded, moving to stand with the rest of the members. He elbowed Magnus, chastising him for being so thoughtless. "Sorry, just couldn't pass up on those _gorgeous_ eyes."

Alec cleared his throat, looking from Magnus to Jon with an expectant, one raised eyebrow look. He gestured to Isabelle smugly.

He did have a right to be smug. His sister killed it. She had the it factor, too. Her body was itching to dance the entire time. She had the bounce in her voice. It was raspy, just like any rock band needed. She wasn't angelic; she was bad.

 _Just like her brother._

I gasped at my realization. Why, why, why did I think these things? I knew why, but why did I have to be turned on by a guy? I would have settled for some old ass lady, but a lady in the end. I took a breath. Maybe it was just Jace. Surely everyone would be gay for somebody.

 _And Will?_

I groaned, trying to ignore my subconscious. Everyone looked at me. "You know what? I think I'm just going to go." I announced as Isabelle and Jonathon argued over how she did. I exited through the door that led to our room, climbing up the hill to the front yard. I noticed Jo driving towards the house and decided against warning Jon. There was a chance he wouldn't even look at who was auditioning, but if he did, I didn't want to be there.

I stepped into the road and pulled out my phone, dialing up Simon. He didn't answer so I called again, pacing across the street from my house. Unintentionally, I fell on the curb.

"Are you okay?" Came a feminine voice a few yards away from me. I looked up, feeling the water squish between my fingers. A pretty, slightly older woman was at her car, looking at me in question. I stuttered.

"Oh – uh, yeah, just distracted," I sighed, brushing hair out of my eyes. I grabbed my phone to find it was soaked in water. The garage door of my house closed, meaning Jo was inside. The woman looked at me for a second longer before deciding I needed help up. She grabbed my arm and looked me over.

"Come inside, you've cut your ankle," she chastised almost. I could have pointed out that I only lived across the street, but she had already begun her prance. It was eerily familiar to Isabelle's. We had to go up an elevator to get to the actual living quarters in the house. That was how big this mansion was. She led me to the kitchen where I could get good enough lighting to look myself over. Blood was flowing thickly from my ankle. It was about double the speed of when I cut myself shaving. The blood was thicker, too, because the cut was pretty deep.

"Sit – oh! Not there," she called as I began to descend on a chair. Her face looked horrified. "Mahogany." As if that explained it all. She was dividing her time between the pot on the stove and me.

"I can go…" I said, inching back towards the door. This house spooked me. For such a detail-oriented person she wasn't very homely. The decorations made me feel like I was in an abandoned private school that didn't want me.

"Nonsense," she insisted. I silently groaned. "Jace! Get down here!"

Oh no, I dreaded seeing him more than I needed to. Why did I always put myself in theses situations? Simon and I had agreed that the best way to be gay was not to tempt myself. In my mind, it translated to staying _away_ from Jace. I silently chanted for him to be locked up in his room, jacking off to some loud hetero porno and unable to hear.

She looked back to me momentarily. "I'm Maryse," she said. "You live across the street. Clary is it?"

I nodded and then realized she couldn't see me. "Yes, what are you cooking?" I asked, unsure what the foreign object sitting on the stove was. She laughed.

"A turkey," she said. "Ever cooked one?"

"No, my dad does all that stuff," I said. Footsteps sounded close by and I mentally shot myself. "But we've never had a turkey, not a whole one."

She shrugged. "It's a lot of preparing. I have plenty of free time, though, because I don't work." I gasped. That was practically unheard of unless a family had baby under seven at home. Many couples never could decide who would stay at home, and there wasn't much reason to. Also, most couples needed the extra money. If a couple had a baby, it was almost always five thousand dollars just to get the baby because of how high in demand they were. However, women had it a bit better. To get a sperm donor was only two hundred fifty thousand, again, because few people were willing to. The lower class couples tended to go under the radar, buy a bisexual or even straight breeder for a night of awkward sex. That was most common in women for obvious reasons.

"Don't you know this by now, Clary? Hetero sex is free, which means having a baby is free, however mind-blowing that is," came a taunting voice from behind me. "And we kind of run a growing business."

"Jace, do not talk money with our guests," Maryse walked around the island and slapped him upside the head. "Either finish the turkey or help clean Clary's foot up." He raised his eyebrows and immediately grabbed my wrist, pulling me away. "That's what I thought."

With that, I blindly _was forced to_ follow the sinning devil into the dark hallway and beyond.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so what do you think? Will Clace happen? Hmmm? Let me hear all your ideas. Has anyone figured out all the pairings yet?

Thank you all for following and favoring and reviewing. I love hearing feedback, truly, bad or good. I would love love love to see eight reviews? Can we do it again? We got it on chapter one. I hope you all still like this!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

* * *

"Ow! Yes, oh please push on it more," I growled, looking down at the man I swore I loathed. He was grinning devilishly, making my hand twitch towards slapping him. He took hold of my ankle again and laughed, swiping at the blood and then throwing it back down causing my heel hit the floor harshly.

"I think you'll live," he sighed. I pouted playfully. His entire aura just urged me to flirt. I hated it, but I also couldn't stop it. And Jace seemed to be the same way.

"Your mother clearly doesn't think so," I pointed out, angling my face towards him.

" _Maryse_ ," he emphasized the word as he sat beside me on the couch. The living room was cold and closed in, just like every other room in this house. We were alone in a dark area with one window overlooking their backyard, which held a garden that I could just barely make out in the low light. Despite how mysterious this house was, it fitted this family. "She just wants somebody to stay for dinner since Isabelle and Alec are out."

"They won't be for long." Jace looked at me in question as he leaned back on the couch. I tucked my legs under my body and faced him, my back pressing against the armrest. "If my dad finds them, they'll be running home and tomorrow my father will show up at your doorstep. However, if my _father_ finds them…well I'd rather not imagine what he would do."

Jace whistled. "You must feel quite loved."

I frowned. He said few things, but most of what he said made sense to me, until now. I could hear the condescending tone in his voice. My body stiffened. "What do you mean by that?"

He shrugged and moved his eyes from mine to the window, speaking coldly and distantly. "It sounds like your dads take heterophobia to a new level. Hetero-hate in my book," his bright eyes met mine. They were so fiercely golden like a fire. But this fire wasn't started from a simple match. It burned too deep. This fire built slowly over time until one day, gas hit the flames and everything exploded. "Being a jig, no matter how secret you are about it, doesn't feel great with dads like them."

"For the last time, I'm-,"

He glared at me now, something I had seen him do to others, but not me. It felt like a slap to the face. "You don't have to pretend around me, Clary. I know what you've been through. If you won't admit it to the world, then at least just to me."

"I don-,"

"Tell me you don't find me attractive," he deadpanned, waiting for my response because he knew I couldn't lie. Not to him, not to something so obvious. He waited for what felt like minutes, cradling my foot and pulling the answer out of my eyes. I caved.

"I…can't." I stuttered. He rolled his eyes and lost his aggressive demeanor. I relaxed a bit.

"You don't have to whine about it – the real straights never do – but every time they tell a joke or rag on the straight neighbors, a little bit of your heart is shaven off, and your tolerance." Jace talked like he was an old man remembering the 'good ole days.' It scared me. I knew what he was talking about. It was such an unconscious feeling that I assumed was just annoyance. But he had to have been wrong because Jonathon felt it, too. We'd always complain about our dads together. He agreed with me on those feelings. I blushed when I felt golden eyes studying me. He seemed slightly satisfied yet still grim. "I take it they never heard about your boyfriend."

"How did you know it was in the past?" I asked.

"I have my sources. Few people can resist a pretty face. You should remember that, babe," he said, tilting his head to the side. I didn't know why, but it always felt like he was studying me. Instantly, I hated the blush that came to my cheeks. He saw it too and chuckled.

"No, they didn't." I said curtly, lifting my chin in the slightest. This topic wasn't a safe topic. I normally steered the conversation away from this, but there was something inside Jace that made me think he'd understand. Yet still, I couldn't trust myself to speak. Jace must have sensed some discomfort on my part, too. He stayed quiet, watching me as I blinked furiously, swallowing the lump in my throat. I didn't get why he just didn't ask me what he was clearly thinking. 'What was wrong with her? Is she about to cry? Stupid teenager thought she was in love.' Instead, his eyes bore into my bright hair, fiery gold meeting fiery red.

My eyes were trained on my hands as my mind spun a million miles a second. It all surrounded Will. So much happened to him. I never saw most of it. We weren't officially dated – mainly because we both couldn't admit we were into the opposite sex – but we were close. I thought I loved him, but his love for me wasn't enough. I couldn't even blame him, but it hurt. It hurt knowing I was the not only the one who wasn't enough, but also the one who tore him down. Him being with me – the rumors were all too much. He couldn't take it. I hardly could either, but he had it worse. His own siblings started to hate him.

"Why do people care who we love?" I whispered barley even thinking about it. My eyes were growing too watery for my comfort.

"It's not that, Clary," Jace said, pulling me with his voice to look at him. When I finally did, I saw he knew exactly what I was thinking. "If that were the case, our problems would be nonexistent." I sighed, looking back at my fingers numbly. "People don't embrace change, not something so radical." I continued looking at my hands. I was on the verge of tears now. I missed Will. Jace reminded me too much of him. Will understood these things, unlike Simon or Jonathon did. Jace – well he understood it better. Will took leaps of faith with me, he'd drop by randomly to surprise me, and he could always make me smile. "However, in my case, guys are jealous they don't stand a chance at getting with me and all my glory."

I couldn't fight the giggles sprouting from my mouth. Jace watched me cheekily and shamelessly. He held my gaze as I slowly sobered up. My feet fell back to the ground and I leaned closer to Jace, enjoying how clean he looked and how enticing his smell was. His head seemed to get closer to me as well. My heart had paused for this moment, but it pounded loudly again when the door was thrust open.

"Dinner!" Maryse chirped suddenly, causing Jace to jump slim out of his seat, barely missing the coffee table. I spun around, gasping for breath. She looked between the two of us suspiciously and almost hopefully. Then she motioned of us to follow.

When we got back to the kitchen, Max was back home, claiming things had gotten loud. Another man who I assumed was Robert Lightwood sat at the head of the table. "You must be Clary," he said, rising to shake my hand. I nodded. "Isabelle and Jace have told me so much about you."

"They did?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Jace elbowed me, motioning for me to sit down. I looked at the table and decided I couldn't pass up this meal. So I sat, and Jace squished in beside me so that I was between Max and him on a bench. Why nobody sat on the other side I didn't know.

"Yes," he smiled. Maryse sat down and I was about to reach for some food when Jace grabbed my hand. Startled, my heart leapt into my throat. He smirked, knowing exactly what I was thinking. Then Max grabbed my other hand and bowed his head in prayer. I flushed with embarrassment. Jace chuckled silently and we both did the same. As we all began to eat, Robert spoke. "I doubt you've seen a hetero family pray, have you?"

I blushed. "Um, no, actually I haven't."

He laughed. "It's okay," he said. "Jace, why don't you explain it to her."

He sighed impatiently, hardly touching his food, but he didn't seem intending to leave, which I was grateful for because this food was very good. " _They_ believe God will forgive us for our sins, that everyone sins and ours just seems like a greater one because most don't do it."

I followed him. "And you?" I pointed at him, curious to see into his mind. He snorted, sipping his drink.

" _If_ God hasn't abandoned us yet, I know he'll forgive me. I already look like an angel. But that if probably isn't true-,"

"Jace, mom doesn't like you ranting at the dinner table," Max interjected before he could get on a roll. I laughed, sticking out my tongue at him as did Max. "Clary! I finished the new comic-,"

"Clary, your dad is going _crazy!_ " Isabelle suddenly burst into the room, out of breath and eyes wide. I jumped at the sudden interruption. She and I met eyes. "Va-Valentine – he's throwing your brother's bass and hi-his clothes…"

I gulped and looked to Jace. He slid out of the seat and I jumped out. "Thank you for the food!" I yelled behind my shoulder when I reached the elevator, surprised to find Jace and Robert right behind me. "Oh." I paced the floor until the cement gave way and we all stepped onto the elevator.

"We really should get stairs in this house," Robert mumbled to save us from the silence. I ignored him, blinking profusely. My father really was the self-righteous, single-minded person I had been adamant he wasn't. Times like these, I wondered how I could ever love this man when his mind was so far gone compared to mine. I wanted to call him ignorant, but that wasn't it. He knew the facts; he just chose to ignore them because he was so stubborn.

"Why is he doing this?" Jace asked as the elevator began to come to a halt. I had my nose pressed against the door ready to stop this madness.

"He _hates_ your family. And I'm guessing Jon just let Isabelle into the band. Father must have found out and – dear God!" I said as we sped to and opened the front door. Directly across the street, right beside our beautiful cheery blossom tree, Valentine had Jon pinned. Alec was trying to pry the old man off his new companion and coworker, but things seemed to be useless. Father was, after all, a much heavier man now and beat Jon by a good fifty pounds.

"You get that joke of a band out of my house," Valentine spat on him. He threw Alec off his back and stood, brushing himself off. "Why don't you join them too?" Valentine kicked Jonathon roughly in the ribs and he crumpled in on himself. Father walked to Jo, sitting on the front porch sobbing. He kept wailing and muttering the weirdest things.

"Where did we go wrong?" He cried. "My son! How could we have let this happen, Val?"

To that, Valentine stopped cold in his tracks. Now with most of the neighborhood watching our entire family, he turned his back on Jo and spoke with cold sincerity. " _We_ didn't, Jo. It was the disease living across the street that did."

Without noticing me, Valentine and Jo hurried inside the house, slamming the door. Some neighbors crept forward, towards the falling, moaning boy on my front lawn. Most, however, looked at him with disgust. Wives ushered their loved ones and kids inside, closing the door on the scene. Husbands shielded their little girls from seeing such a gruesome sight.

I, however, sprinted forward as fast as I could. I landed on my knees beside Jon, breathless. "Jon? Jon, are you okay?" He rolled on his back, wheezing and gave me a small thumb's up. Then he continued to cough up his lungs. "What the hell happened? I – I've never seen father so irate!"

Alec began to speak deftly, "After the audition, he and Isabell-,"

"They joined the band." Jonathon cut him off abruptly. Alec looked slightly muffled and took a step back onto his feet, looking upward. "I wouldn't quit."

"Clearly," Jace said above my shoulder. I had forgotten that he and his dad had joined me outside. Robert kneeled by Jonathon's body, inspecting. Then he made a face.

"Jace, Alec, help the boy inside," was all Robert said before he stood curtly and walked inside. Isabelle was watching from her door at this point, eyes glowing with hatred towards my house. I stood up and they pulled Jon up.

"Clary! Step away from him and his kind!" Valentine's voice suddenly shouted from our doorstep. I ignored him, too deep in worry. Where would Jon go? What about school? Would he get a job and go off on his own considering he was technically an adult? He'd never survive. "Clarissa Morgenstern!"

I flinched and looked over my shoulder, seeing the flames in my father's eyes as well. It was a battlefield here, and suddenly nomad's land wasn't safe anymore. Jace and Alec had one of Jon's arms slung over their shoulders, but they paused before heading towards their house. Jace looked at me, scrutinizing. Jon spoke tiredly, but he wasn't defeated. He didn't sound worried or scared, just hurt. "I'm sorry, Clary."

"Don't apo-,"

"Don't let them get to you," he whispered, trying his best to stand without falling.

"Jon." I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but I couldn't. There was so much I wanted and needed to say.

"I'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about." He said with finality. I stumbled back, hearing dad's shouts now, too. Jace and Alec helped Jonathon into their home, where he disappeared forever. Weak and shocked, I turned around, looking at Valentine and Jo with subdued rage, but they saw it anyway.

"Go to your room," Valentine pointed towards my window. I took a breath and began to move between the two men. He grabbed my wrist as I passed. "Jonathon is no longer part of this family, Clarissa. Understand that? Those were your last words to that pedophilic, straight, bumbling sinner. No more."

My jaw dropped, but they couldn't see my face. Why would he call him that? Pedophilic? Straight? Jonathon was nothing of the sort. He was the perfect, if not a little moody, teenager. Sure, he lied and cheated from time to time but he wasn't a bumbling sinner. More importantly, how could Valentine call his son that? He raised him to be the perfect image of the perfect family, yet he kicked Jon out. I couldn't grasp why. He himself wasn't hetero. He himself didn't openly agree in heterosexuals' lives, not as far as Valentine knew at least.

If he was willing to do that to his son because he let Isabelle join his band, what would he do if he found out about Will? I head a horrible, dreadful feeling that I knew. He wouldn't just kick me out. That was too simple. I was also the last daughter of his family. He _needed_ my presence, but not my mind and thoughts. With my stomach lurching, I knew if they ever found out, they'd give me something slightly under murder.

"Yes," I said between clenched teeth. "I understand."

. . .

That night, I crept downstairs. My dads were _still_ going at it. Jo kept bringing up the point that they raised them while my father said Jonathon did this all to be a spiteful, devil-loving teen.

"Wha-where did we go wrong?" Jo cried. I watched from the basement door, getting a perfect view of Valentine's emotionless, guiltless face. I had the urge to scream at both of them that nobody did anything _wrong._ In the eyes of God, then yes, but it wasn't like Jo and Valentine were virgin's when they married either! It was an equal sin!

"He could have been influencing Clary with those beliefs, too," Valentine gasped. I frowned. That didn't make any sense. The belief to befriend a jig just sounded like an odd 'belief.'

"But she's very straight, honey. Heck just last week she tried to hit on _her,_ " Jo said with an indifferent voice. "I don't know if that's bad or good."

"She's always around that Simon boy," Valentine muttered. I sighed. Even if Simon and I were straight, I had high doubts we'd be into each other. We were too good of friends. I never thought of him like that.

"Oh, Val, why did this happen to us?" Jo sobbed into his chest. I couldn't take it anymore. Nothing happened to them, they did this to their family. They kicked Jonathon out! His friends' sexual orientations shouldn't mean anything to them. It didn't mean enough to me to find our Jordan's orientation, and neither did it for Jonathon.

I snuck back upstairs and flung myself on the bed, forever worrying about my brother. He had no place to go, or sleep, or eat. He had no job or money on hand. I just prayed my dads would get off their high horses and see their wrong. I didn't want forgiveness because Jon did nothing _wrong_.

But that would never happen. My dads' skulls were as thick as cement.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for the many awesome reviews! Yay, some of you have guessed the one pairing that isn't so common: Jonathan and Isabelle. Like I said, I haven't finished the series yet, but I've always hated Simon. Hated him. There's little reason to it. I just have this strong disliking towards him. So you'll see later on, I'm a little aggressive in that sense. Anyways, there is also Clace and Malec.**

 **So I hate that it was so short. Five reviews to make up for it? Pretty pweease?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

* * *

"Clary slow down, will you?" Simon groaned, running to catch up to my fast pace. "Us nerds can only go two paces: the study-walk and the bully-run, neither of which are ever fast enough."

I stopped and looked at him. He held his hands up in surrender and shut his mouth. We continued our walk in the doors of the school and straight into the cafeteria, but Jace wasn't there.

 _Or Isabelle and Alec._

Right. I sighed in defeat. "Okay, what's going on?" Simon asked, grabbing my shoulder. I spun around on him, frowning. But I was tired of keeping this worry inside me for a full twelve hours. I sighed and looked at my feet.

"My dads, uh, kicked Jonathon out because he let Isabelle in the band," I admitted. Simon gasped lightly. I gulped. "The Lightwood's helped him clean up, but I never saw where he went after that."

Simon was pale and looking around the school nervously despite the fact that we already agreed they weren't here. "If the school finds out a kid with such low grades is straight, Clary, they'll find any excuse to kick him out, too."

I cursed in my head. With all this drama, I'd totally forgotten about that. Our schools were technically not allowed to discriminate, but that didn't stop the board from knit picking to find any and every reason to expel a jig. It happened with Will Herondale, which was the main reason the news that we had sex hadn't spread around school so much yet. They kept the smart ones like Jace, who was a chemistry whiz. I didn't know or want to know if they knew I had done hetero acts, but my drawing talents would keep me either way. But Jon… "He's not straight, though, Simon! But by associating so intensely with them he may as well be. Dammit, he had D's in all of his classes except music. I'd be surprised if they haven't already."

Simon glanced around the school, at our especially moody principal. "Only one way to find out." He looked to the principal then to me. I was not going to go over there. He already hated me for painting a mural on the bleachers one night – I was a little drunk but it looked awesome. If I went to him, there was no way the news about my brother wouldn't spill, if not from him then from me. He had mind power persuasions.

My inner argument didn't matter, however, because he came up to me. "Clary Morgenstern, I am _so_ sorry for your loss." He put a hand on my shoulder. Our principal was an old man who had wrinkles under his black beady eyes and on his forehead. This man had grey hair and a sweet smile; he was the devil. He was cunningly playing the innocent look.

"Why? My brother didn't _die,"_ I glared. These people thought so low of jigs, even if the person was just close with one. It was like he was suddenly a new person now. Why would he change just because he befriended a jig?

He paused in his words, almost not expecting such attitude. I narrowed my eyes at him. Who did he think he was? This was both my brother and a personal, family matter. He didn't have the right to speak so openly about either. "We-well, yes, but I can only imagine the loss you're feeling right now. No heterosexual brother will ever be the same as homo Jonathon." He said with such old fashioned displeasure as he shook his head. ' _What a shame'_ his eyes berated. I began to fire back until I heard his last sentence. My mouth stopped, hung open in utter confusion. My principal didn't notice. He pulled out a handkerchief. "I must be going, but give this back to Jo for me, will you? He left it here this morning."

I stood there for a moment, trying to still my anger. My own dad had no shame in starting not just a gossip line, but a rumor as well, and that was something I that truly got under my skin. My dads cared so little about family privacy it was insulting. How could they ever expect me to confide in them with secrets when Jo goes out and tells the whole world an exaggerated form of it? I knew full well that Jonathon wasn't straight. He was too normal to be straight. Heteros had this vibe about them, something mysterious or silently secretive like Jace had. Isabelle, too, kept her own secrets with her wicked ways, but Jonathon? It wasn't possible.

. . .

I stormed home immediately, furious at both my parents for kicking Jonathon out in the first place, but now my anger wasn't controllable. Simon tried to calm me down the entire time, but I ignored every word, snapping at him towards the last stretch. I had every right to be angry and he had none to take it away. He was my best friend and should have been on _my_ side.

After dropping me off, Simon drove home quickly. I wasted no time in slamming the front door open. Jo was the only one home, as usual. He was watering the plants in the windowsill before he noticed the loud noise and turned. I stared him down and shouted, "How dare you gossip about _our_ family to anyone!?"

He looked aghast, obviously expecting me to come in quietly and grab a snack before going to my room to draw. Today, I surprised him just as much as he did me. "What are you talking about, sweetheart?"

He moved towards me, but I matched his number of steps back. His hand that had risen to caress my face dropped, and Jo finally seemed to see clearly how bothered I was. "You talked to the principal about kicking Jonathon out. That vile man called him a-," I was surprised to find tears pricking at my eyes, but I refused to cry over this. This was an angry matter, not a heartbreaking one. I had to be strong. "He thinks Jon's a jig! You've spread false rumors about your own son!"

Jo's face paled. His eyes went wide. "Clary, he is."

I wasn't expecting this, for I had already planned out my next shots, however he had fired back with not a bullet, but a sword. Jo sounded so incredibly honest yet disgusted at the same time. In his mind, this was the truth.

I recooperated and laughed humorlessly. "You and father are so daft! He is into _men!"_

Jo sighed and sat in a chair. He shook his head numbly, sadly. When he looked up, tears fell from his eyes down his cheeks, staining the peachy skin. "No." His voice broke along with his heart. His bright blue eyes intensified. Pain was pulsing behind them, as if his own personal world had ended at this, and he knew he was about to end mine. "We kicked him out, Clarissa, because Valentine and I walked in on Isabelle and him k-," he purposefully gagged, "kissing."

My heart pounded loudly. This made no sense. Jonathon wasn't straight. He chased Isabelle halfway across school because she kissed him once. There was… "No way," I pled, but I wanted to convince myself that more than Jo. I wracked my brain for instances of his straight behavior, yet I found very little. Not once did he mention or look at a girl too long. Not once did he claim he enjoyed Isabelle's kiss. And he certainly wouldn't have told Isabelle this before me.

But at the same time, he never spoke of guys, nor did he look at them. His band friends all seemed to know because, despite his gorgeous looks, none of them hit on him. He was so masculine, but that normally didn't mean much of anything. Both straights and gays can be masculine or feminine. However, many straight guys like 'controlling' a girl, or at least that had been my experience.

"Why didn't he tell me?" I whispered. Jonathon could have told me hundreds of times. He could have saved me from having a panic attack when I told him I had sex with a boy because I could have at least felt somewhat normal. For months after I felt like I was wrong, that something in me was broken because nobody knew how I felt.

 _You still do._

I shook my head, desperate to escape my thoughts. "I – I told your father it could just be a phase," my dad continued on with a broken expression. He sniffled as he wrung his hands routinely. "But he and I both knew if he didn't get away from that horrible influence of a band, it'd become permanent."

"D-dad," I croaked. I was speaking before I could think. There was too much going on. I couldn't hold back these words. I used to think my dads didn't have to change because I was the only one in the family with a chance of being damaged. But now this affected my brother. "He's still your son."

Jo looked at me with sad eyes. "No, Clarissa, he's not. He's a sinner with a splash of the devil in him. We don't raise mistakes. I hate to be so blunt, but heterosexuals are just that – something gone wrong in their brain. A tumor or gene mutation…either way, the brain is not right, and our son is go-gone." He sobbed into his hands, letting his world crash around his bubble of security.

I stumbled back against the wall, tears finally crashing through. _Mistakes. Mutations. Tumors. Gone._ I was a mistake. I wasn't normal. He, and so many others, believed I was a mistake that something inside me broke. I couldn't breathe. If they believed that about their son, how could that not be true?

"I know, baby, I know," Jo was suddenly at my side _comforting me._ I sucked in a ragged breath of air. I wanted his hands off me. The hatred, the dehumanization…he hated jigs. He should have hated me. His hands needed to be off me.

"I'm going to my room," I dragged my hand across my cheeks to get the tears and snot away. Running to my room, I crashed onto the bed and had no idea what else to do. When I looked up, I wanted to hit my head against the wall for having hope that Jonathon would magically be there on his bed. But his bed was empty. Sheets had been burned the night before, the mattress had been slashed, bleeding the stuffing, and his pillows had been soaked in holy water. Jonathon's dresser was emptied and on its side. His trophies and personal objects had been thrown into the woods late at night. Nothing remained that reminded anyone of his band, as if it had never been there. His beanbag chair had even been torn open and searched, and now a pile of Styrofoam lied on the ground at the foot of his bed, making a huge mess. That was the only thing that held his essence.

I needed Jonathon. I needed his knowing smile, and his warm, strong arms that never failed to reassure me. He could protect me from our dads. He could make me feel almost whole again. He would make me feel like I wasn't a disgrace, even though we both were now.

I ran to the bathroom and searched continuously for his belongings. Anything. His comb was gone, his shampoo and 'man conditioner' was emptied and in the trash. His 'manly' dark purple blow dryer had the cord chopped off and was in the trash. I searched our junk drawer, where we kept everything from stray hair holders to extra toothbrushes, but his razors weren't there. I cut my hand on something and pulled away to see that I was wrong. His razors were still there, but they'd been broke and crushed beyond repair. Now I had a long cut running from the bottom of my thumb to my wrist because of it.

I couldn't handle this anymore. Jo and Valentine had swept and 'cleansed' my room of Jonathon, vandalizing his things to make an ignorant, horrid point. He wasn't normal or welcome.

I took two handfuls of my junk drawer, the razors cutting me again, and threw it against the wall, shouting in hysteria. They hit the wall at different speeds, but they all landed on the ground one way or another. Old eyeliners and mascaras made black streaks on my white walls, but that couldn't have made me happier.

I stepped forward, my feet screaming in pain as they made contact with the razors and plastic shards. My fingers ran down the length of the black marks as my tears increased. Slowly, I started to weep. They were silent cries that took over my whole essence. It was exhausting and long and never ending, even if I had tried.

My frame sagged towards the floor when suddenly two arms encircled my body. I shut up at once. A familiar voice shushed me ever so quietly, his voice hovering right by my ear. "Stop crying, it's just me," Jace said. His firm, long hands spun my frame around into his chest, and my legs naturally wrapped around his waist. As much as I detested this golden boy, I needed somebody to hold me together.

"I – I wasn't crying be-because of you," I stuttered, still trying to calm myself. My arms locked around his neck, steadying myself. His eyes studied mine for a split second, and then his arms pulled me the rest of the way to him so that my head rested on his shoulder.

"Obviously, girls like you don't cry over a boy," he said, but he had no idea how wrong he was. Technically, I cried because Will abandoned me to face the horrors of being straight in this gay world alone. I cried because I had sex with him. I cried because the world didn't want me with _any_ boy. But it was never because of the boy. It was because of the world. Even Will, I suspected, killed himself because the world didn't want him with me. Of course, he still blamed me for all the rumors and bullies, as I blame myself, but if the world had just accepted us I wouldn't have blood on my hands.

I took two deep breaths and pulled away. Jace reluctantly released the pressure on my back. I looked at him, recognizing the concern in his eyes as a rarity because his eyes blazed far to brightly for the concern to be a common feature of them. His delicate fingers moved to my cheek and wiped at the drying tears. My heart pounded loudly in my ears.

"Take me out of this house," I whispered, begging. Jace looked around and then back to me. He flashed me a wicked smile.

"Out the backdoor we go," he agreed, pushing through the bathroom door and out the still open one. The cool night air helped me catch my breath and calm down. My adrenaline had finally stopped pumping in time for me to feel the effects I'd caused to my body. I took a sharp breath due to the minor pain. His eyes locked onto me once again, pausing before going up the hill towards the street. "Why'd you do that?" Jace went back to sounding annoyed, but I could tell he cared by the way his golden eyes kept flickering to my wrist.

"Why were you in my home?" I finally thought to ask, wiping at my nose. His heartbeat was right by my ear, thumping steadily. In the chilling air, it gave me a feeling of warmth.

"Jonathon requested I observe you for the next day – make sure you didn't do, well, this." Jace snorted, rather coldly. I chuckled. My brother always looked out for me.

"So you're taking me to him for punishment?" I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. Jace shook his head.

"No. You can meet with your brother and squeal like the little kid you are when you find out we are housing him from now on," he said, causing me to gasp in shock. I knew they were good people, but I never expected this! A whole other person was more money and time than they'd think. How could they do this? Jonathon had gotten Jace and Isabelle a week in suspension on the first day of school and a week later they were living together? Jace didn't give me any time to catch my breath. "But then I'm doctoring you up _again:_ physically and mentally."

"That sounds exciting," I said sarcastically, taking one final breath of air to refresh my lungs from my hysteria fit.

"I know, I'd much rather have you in the sexy doctor outfit as well, but I am, after all, never beaten or bruised." Jace tilted his head, stopping before the entrance to his house. I blushed furiously, looking away from those eyes that made me want to fuck him so badly. His devious little smirk made my heart stutter rapidly and I swore I could feel my stomach twisting into a familiar knot.

He opened the door with a crooked grin, walking into the elevator still with me in his arms. My feet, which I could feel pulsing, were in no condition to walk yet. We made it upstairs, to which I was surprised to find neither parent nor Max in the kitchen or living room. Jace took a different route than I was used to, which ended up in us ascending a small set of stairs that led into a small loft-like area. A window faced the spacious backyard with a huge oak tree flowing in the breeze. Before the window, however, was a set of drums being played loudly and with skill. The drums were on a stage that also held space for two guitar players diagonal from the drums. Between the drums and guitar players – both of who were familiar to my relief – was a keyboard and a solo microphone. Bookcases lined the walls in front of the stage for a ways, leaving room in between for a couch and coffee table, which held a lamp. Everything had a dark tinge to it with the black bookcases, couch, and table matched to the dark red and black patterned walls and lampshade.

"Clary?" Jonathon gasped. He scrambled off the stage, tossing his guitar on the couch and rushed forward. He halted before taking me from Jace. "Why is she hanging off you?" I blushed, realizing how intimate this could seem. Our sexes were practically touching one another. At least now our chests weren't.

"She walked on razor blades," he said. Everyone, which I concluded was the entire band plus Alec. Isabelle came towards me hesitantly while Alec looked from Jace to me with fury. He didn't believe him. "Literally."

"Jon," I cried, throwing my arms around his neck. Jace got he clue to hand me off, and my brother held me a bit conservatively with his hands at my back and knees. I released him from my side hug and grinned. "Jon, what happened? Why did they kick you out?"

Jon's smile faded. He sighed and looked around at everyone else. Sebastian had grown bored and was at his piano, dusting it. Isabelle, Jace, and Jordan were watching intently, all curious to my reaction. Magnus had already took his break and left the room. "Guys, can we, uh, have a little space?" Jonathon sighed like he hated asking them of this not because it was rude but because he didn't want to do this.

Jordan nodded and grabbed Sebastian, pulling him out. Isabelle looked hesitant. She walked to me and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.' Then she left. Jace looked between the two siblings with mild interest, for once with a genuinely serious expression. He said, "Call me in to rescue you, Red."

I didn't realize he was speaking to me until the door shut. Then I looked to Jon and saw how pale his face had turned, and his skin was so clammy. He sat me down on the couch and sat stiffly on the stage, gripping the edge for dear life. "So this is kind of hard to say, Clary…"

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews, everyone. To answer some questions: 1) My updates are more or less random. I try not to push it past a week at time. However, I am still writing the end to this. It's taking more time than I'd like. So patience my friends. 2) It will take a while for Clary to stand up for herself. I don't base these characters off me me or my friends, and Clary has had it pretty bad all her life being insulted by her own family for something she really can't control so she's a little quieted. She will blossom; I'd never leave somebody like that! 3) Yes this is based on a video on youtube. I saw it and got an idea from it only older and much more detailed. I hope the creators don't have problem with it. All I really took was the world, no plot.**

 **I hope that cleared some things up with you guys. Keep reading and I'll keep writing! Can we see if we can hit double digits in one review guys? It would really just make my day! Please!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

* * *

"So this is kind of hard for me to say, Clary…" Jonathan muttered, and I could hear the shaking in his voice, the nervousness he was feeling. I leaned as far forward as I dared, looking into his eyes the entire time.

"Whatever you have to tell me, Jon, I am always here for you," I said, patting his knee. He took a staggering breath and closed his eyes, preparing himself.

"They didn't kick me out because I let a jig into our band. They kicked me out because I'm straight." He said nervously at the end and held his breath, waiting on my reaction. I blinked and frowned. How could my dads' have known before me?

"What?" I said just to make sure I heard correctly. His lips lifted into a cautious smile, and it was clear to me he was exactly as he said. "You chased Isabelle…"

He grew a quirky smile that had been known to make boys blush, but to me it was my brother being his goofy self. "She'd been this close to outing me to the school. I just…" he trailed off and tilted his head, growing serious again. "I know I joked about your sexuality, and I don't know if you even are sure what you are. But when you decide, don't let anyone else out you. It's a scary thing, and most people won't agree."

I steeled my eyes, searching to see his emotions. It was so hard; he looked so much like my father. They both hid their emotions like their lives depended on it. Finally, the pain protruded behind those green eyes. I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him forward onto his knees, squishing him in a hug.

"Oh Jon," I sighed happily. There was a good feeling in my heart knowing he felt open enough to come out to me. "This changes nothing, but obviously I still love you. Our dads…"

Jonathan pulled away with a grim smile. "Our dads can't see past the physical, and that's their fault, Clary, not ours."

I nodded, agreeing, but then I heard his last word. "Yours, you mean." He smiled knowingly at me. I frowned. He was definitely implying something I didn't like. He snickered and I hit him in the arm, only half playing. He smiled happily and I could see his shoulders relaxing. "So what are you doing now?"

He sat back on the stage and cracked his knuckles, "The Lightwoods offered to house me, free of charge and everything. They and Alec, who is quite persuasive, really believe in the band. We could go big some day, Clary."

I had a tough time believing him. They were very good. Their songs were off the chart, but Will's voice always had been too soft for their music. I believed Isabelle would definitely help, but would it be enough to get them truly noticed? It would be a struggle, one I was surprised the Lightwoods would fund.

"You have no idea how much we've already been noticed in the west coast, Clary. They _love_ my lyrics," he groaned, grinning like a wild man. I chuckled.

"It's not going to be easy, Jon, I hope you know that," I said. He nodded, still unable to wipe the smirk off his face. "What about school?"

"I'm dropping out," he shrugged. I figured he would. To write songs – good songs – he had to be focused. School was probably the greatest distraction anyone could ask for. "It's a gamble, but one I'm really confidant in."

I sighed. It scared me. But Jonathon was always a laid back go with the flow type of guy. If he was okay not being sure where his income would be coming from in five years, then that was good for him. I just hoped he could do it. He deserved some goodness in his life after suffering a full eighteen years on his own as a jig in a house with two heterophobic dads.

"Then you better get to practicing," I swatted at his head. He grinned. "Jace!" I shouted. Jon frowned in confusion so I held my feet up. He cringed. "He's promised to nurse me back to health." I giggled.

Jonathan stared at me suspiciously and I realized I was blushing. Fanning myself, I looked away as the door opened with numerous feet pounding the stairs. "Watch out for him, Clary. Isabelle's told me about how many-,"

"Jon, I really don't need you to turn into a protective brother _now,"_ I emphasized the fact that it was after I got a boy I loved killed. You know, the more and more I thought about my life, the more and more straight I sounded.

"After what happened last time you got with a boy? I'm not letting that happen again, Clary," Jonathan hissed, narrowing his eyes. I felt my throat begin to close up. He always had to bring that up. I took a breath and swallowed the lump in my throat. Somebody cleared her voices beside us, and we jumped.

"Everything okay?" Isabelle looked between the two of us. I glared at Jon, thickening my heart. He looked slightly worried over his words.

I kept my eyes on him. "Yes, we're fine." Jon gulped. "Jace, could yo-?" I was off my feet in a matter of seconds. He moved with such speed I gasped. We were at the stairs and in the hall before I even got situated in his arms. It seemed like I wasn't the only one who wanted out of there.

It seemed like we turned a corner at least seven times, walking a good three minutes before we finally got to his methodical room. I envied how organized he was. There was a clear space on his bed for me and everything. But we didn't stop there. He slowed his pace and entered his bathroom: a private one. I noticed how he closed both his bedroom and bathroom door. The toilet was at the back of the bathroom, with the shower on the right and a double sink counter on the left, which had a barren countertop between the sinks and a little bit lower. That was where he sat me. I huffed and looked at him.

"What did happen with that boy you slept with?" Jace asked conversationally as he rummaged through the medicine cabinet to my left. Normally, I never spoke of him. A lot of people didn't know his name. If people asked me about him, I'd either politely escape the conversation or flip them off, depending on if they were teasing me or not.

But Jace asked me like it didn't matter to him if I answered, as if it was the only thing we could talk about, which was false. He also wasn't demanding this of me, and I enjoyed the openness. So I told him a light version of it, leaving out the heavy. "It's kind of a long story."

He held up a bottle of alcohol and raised one eyebrow. "I've got time, sweetheart." My cheeks heated up instantly and I looked at my hands, forming my sentence.

"It started in middle school really. I stole his first kiss," I chuckled sadly, reminiscing back to those good ole days. Though, they really were some of the worst for me. "I think he'd always known he was into girls. We 'dated' for a while. It was almost a real thing, but it was still middle school. And we were children; children who made the mistake of holding hands on the walk home. Kids saw us, and the bullying started. A couple months went by and it had gotten so bad for me that this girl sent me to the hospital because she knocked me out cold with a rock."

Jace looked at me quizzically, finding humor in that bit of the story as I did. I smirked. "Always knew there was something wrong with you." His comment made me smile.

"So we ended things after that. Skip to the summer before senior year at a lake," I sighed. It was nearing the dramatic parts. Jace had started cleaning my feet with alcohol, and it stung, but I hardly noticed. "Our families left us alone while they went fishing and…one thing led to the other." Jace paused his ministrations and stared up at me. I blushed and looked away, sighing. "I don't know if love even exists for people like us, Jace, but what we had was more than anyone else I knew. It was passionate and fiery. I couldn't get enough of him, but he had trouble getting away to see me. We'd meet up maybe once a week if we were lucky."

"But?" Jace asked, moving to my hands. He grabbed a few bandages for these. I couldn't help but stare at the deep gashes. They'd leave a scar for a long time. People would think I was suicidal. It was almost amusing compared to the end of my story.

"But I brought him too much pain," I whispered, closing my eyes and seeing his flash before me, bright in the darkness. My heart thudded loudly in pain. "He couldn't take the names, the exile, the abuse… When his parents found out, it tipped the scale."

…

"And we found him dead within a week." I squeezed my eyes tighter, watching and reliving the last moments I had with him. He'd called me a couple times, freaking out. He was a wreck. I wanted more than anything to comfort him, but it'd only remind him that his parents hated him for doing exactly that. I tried so hard, but in the end I killed him.

"His name was Will, wasn't it?" Jace's voice was seared with pain after such a long silence. Now done in healing me, he stood directly in front of me. I opened my eyes, feeling the pools of water swarm my vision. And I nodded, jerkily and shaking. Jace took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I grabbed his wrists.

"I'm so _sorry_ , Jace. I – I never meant for that to-," I choked back on my words. "If I just would have gone to him more…" Jace's eyes shot open.

"Clary, he killed himself because of the straight-hate." His voice had such fire it almost burned me. I frowned, tears spilling over my cheeks. "School was worse for him than you because he let everyone know he was strictly straight while you jumped in between." I felt slightly offended at that but decided to hold my tongue. If there was any way I could understand Will more, and possibly see it the way Jace did, he was the way. "Our moms were siblings. I know _exactly_ what he went through at home. And trust me, if California didn't look out for jigs, I would have ended up the same."

I gasped, tightening my grip on his wrists. "Jace, don't say that." I hissed, horrified at the thought. I couldn't imagine him being affected by anything like I or Will was. He was so strong and so sure of himself. "What did your moms do to you?"

He closed his eyes and opened them slowly. They were burning with memories, memories tainted with darkness. "Ever heard of home therapy?" I lost my breath again.

"No," I whispered so small I couldn't hear myself. Jace did.

"I still have the scars…" Jace's body was rigid. His eyes were locked onto mine so tightly I worried I couldn't withstand all the weight of his words. "For years as a kid. My neighbors, the Lightwoods, saved me and took me in, but my moms never got punished, never saw the wrong in doing it."

"Jace," I whispered, done with words. I released his hands and threw my arms around his body. He fell in between my legs, surprised at my hug. Nevertheless, his arms weaved around the small of my back, pulling me closer. Our bodies were touching everywhere, his stomach pressed against my sex, and a jolt of energy surged through me. I gasped, but there was no longer room for surprise. Jace pulled back slightly, still holding onto my body. His eyes skimmed down and back up, deadly serious. I watched him the entire time, waiting for that move I knew he would have to pull sooner or later.

His eyes shot to my lips, too. And I almost leaned in, but Jace had already moved forward. Eyes closing, I licked my lips at the last second before his slammed into mine. My world spun suddenly, and I could only think about his soft lips. They kissed me with a slow pace, gentle in his own way, but when he bit my lip, I knew he was holding back. I wrapped my arms around his neck, moving my lips with his. A warm tongue slid along my bottom lip and my heart beat even faster. I ran my hands through his hair, finally getting to feel his golden locks that were so smooth. His hands skimmed down my sides, creating a line of burning heat on my body.

Before I could stop myself, my hand grabbed his bicep and my heart almost stopped at the feeling of his hard muscle beneath my grip. Jace grabbed my ass, squeezing hard enough to make me squeal. As our tongues began to dance to the beat of our hearts, the music stopped playing. And Isabelle started to giggle.

"Damn Clary, we just should have switched brothers!" she sniggered. Suddenly, I snapped to my senses and gasped, pulling away hard enough to slam my head against the wall. Jace was just as surprised as I was, and it was all aimed towards me.

I covered my mouth, my eyes wide. "No," I whispered, closing my eyes. The last boy I kissed was Will. I remembered his lips attacking mine with such animalistic force I was almost overwhelmed. Despite how different Jace's kiss was, I still felt the emotions. "No. I – I'm not-,"

"If you say you aren't straight one more time, I think I'll be insulted," Isabelle muttered, back to her bitchy mood like before. Her moment of girly emotions was gone.

"Isabelle, keep your mouth shut and we won't mention you and Jon to your mom and dad," Jace said, not looking at her for a response. "Leave. Now."

Isabelle muttered about how moody Jace always was, stomped past us, grabbed an unimportant item, and left. She slammed the door on the way out. I looked at Jace, horrified, and dropped my head in my hands.

"This is so wrong," I groaned. Again. A second time. One time I could pass off in my head as Will being my exception. But another boy meant it wasn't just Will; it was boys in general. With that cloud blown away, I could remorsefully admit that guys did make my heart flutter, both appearance and personality wise, more than girls did. It was a fact I no longer could ignore. "I'm going to hell."

"God doesn't punish people who kiss angels, darling, so we're both good," he said. When he noticed my silence, he sobered up and gripped my wrist. "Look at me, Red."

I couldn't do it. Those golden orbs would captivate me again, only adding onto my list of guilt. Then the paranoia set in. What if he felt the same affects Will did? I already made Will kill himself, or so I suspected, and adding more blood on my hands wouldn't help me. God would sentence me to double hell for tormenting and delving into temptation. I was royally screwed.

"Clary!" Jace shouted. My head snapped up, eyes watery for the third time today. His eyes softened slightly. "Do you want me?" My eyes grew wide, and anger filled me from within. "Just answer it."

I debated for a second. "Yes." I muttered, shame filling me to the brim.

"Would you rather live a lie or enjoy life to the fullest, with no true harm to anyone because of it?" Jace asked, eyes searching mine. I didn't answer. "There's nothing wrong with what we are-,"

"Stop it," I hissed, clenching my eyes shut. We. I was part of the minority known as we now.

"Love knows no bounds, Clary," Jace said, squeezing my arm as if that'd convince me more. I seethed.

"Love knows bounds, _Jace_ ," I hissed. "Look at my brother, look at Will, hell, look at you!" I shoved past him, getting to my feet despite the stinging pain. I couldn't look at him anymore. "Love is what gets us killed."

Jace wasn't expecting that, clearly, because he let me go. I hobbled off, losing myself in the many hallways. It was my intention to go home, but I couldn't find the exit. Instead, somebody found me. I recognized the light footsteps almost immediately.

"Clary?" Max asked, glee in his tone. I spun around and grew a forced smile. He was my favorite nine year old. "What are you doing here?" I began to answer, but he was on a roll. "Hey, do you want to read these comic books with me? I have a wicked monster for Jace!"

My smile faltered. I needed out of this house. I felt more than trapped by Jace and Isabelle, both of whom knew my rumors were true. Not to mention that I had almost forgotten that _everyone_ in here was related to Will Herondale, at least in the emotional sense.

"Sure, Maxie," I plastered a grin on my lips and followed him to the library. I was being guided by the nine year old. That was insulting.

"Claryy," he whined, tugging on my arm with his bright energy. "Maxie is a little kid name. I'm just Max."

I laughed and looked back at him with that same glint in my eye. "Max sounds just fine to me." I agreed and sat beside him while he rummaged through one of his old comic books. It was one of the many I had given him. Max had a thing for old comic books, ones made in my childhood. It made me glad to know he thought the newer ones didn't compare.

We read for thirty minutes or so before he stopped me and pointed excitedly to a picture. He claimed this one looked like me. I informed him about her. "Mystique. Hmm," I looked at him without turning my head, suspicious. "You just said that because her hair is as red as mine."

"No!" Max laughed evilly. "Okay, yes, but _Jace_ agreed with me. He said he thinks of you in ' _that'_ way as much as everyone thinks about her." I choked, laughing and also scared for my life. My eyes shot upward, as if his room was located above this one, even though I had no idea where I was. "Do you understand what he meant?"

I laughed nervously and stood. "I'm sorry, Maxie, but I need to get home." I began walking to the door, halfway sure I could find the elevator from here. I'd been in here once when Jace played doctor before.

"My name's not Maxie!" Max shouted. He followed me to the elevator, insisting his name was Max and Max only. "Come back tomorrow, Clary!"

"Clary's still here?" I almost flinched when I recognized the voice of Jace. He rounded the corner just as the metal doors slid shut. Drained of energy, I slid back against the wall and waited for the ding. Seeing Max so comfortable in his environment helped, I concluded. He was so innocent it was hard to think about my personal drama with him around. And he had to live with that damn golden boy.

* * *

 **A/N: You all like that last cliffy? I love that you love this so much! Who loves Maxie? I really like this kid. How was that for some Clace baby? Lemme tell you something. It gets better and juicier ;) There will be a rating change eventually, too. So what are you all thinking? Do you like where this is going?**

 **I'd love some inspiriting. Currently fighting writer's block. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

* * *

"Clary? Why is it you enjoy avoiding my brother at all costs?" Isabelle asked as she sat down. I looked up from my sketch and watched her smug smile form. "Secret? Hmm?"

Jace sat down next to me, which was more than annoying. But scooting closer to Simon also didn't help, not in light of his most recent news. Somebody threw an apple at the back of my head the moment Simon and I sat down. When I turned around, she yelled, "You're sitting at a table of Breeders, Clary, better get out before you get _it."_

'It' being his term for pregnant. Like it was a disease.

"Who would have guessed, huh?" Isabelle snickered, looking at Simon oddly. "You're really straight?"

"Yeah, I am," Simon looked her directly in the eyes and blushed. I groaned. His ways of flirting had always been bad. I used to hope it was because he was a jig, but it turned out to be all him.

"Let us clap for your big day," Jace muttered tiredly. I sighed and kicked him under the table, but that didn't change anything. He rolled his eyes, conveying his annoyance at this superficial event. I mouthed back to him that it was a big deal. And then he flashed me the bird.

The click-clack of heels distracted me, which was disappointing. I was just about to knee Jace in his family jewels. A shadow infiltrated my vision, and I looked away from Jace behind me. There stood the school slut in all her glory. I wouldn't lie; she was a very pretty girl, but then she also tarnished her face with a tad bit more of cheap make up than she needed. Her eyes were looking at Izzy.

"So…you're sure you're straight? Because if not, then you've got a hell of a rack, one some that may even top mine. I'd love to compare." were the words straight from Aline's mouth. I coughed to hide my laughing. How…smooth? Her comment truly did make me angry. Basically, she said, "If you are gay, you have nice boobs. If you are straight, you don't have nice boobs." I even felt offended by that.

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "As straight as the dick I simply _crave,"_ she sneered. Aline looked mildly disgusted and insulted. She huffed indignantly and turned to me. I blinked and backed up, almost slightly scared by her towering form. Jace's hand wrapped around me and latched onto my hip, and I had to say I was slightly relieved by that with Aline here. She always made me, well, uncomfortable with her groping eyes and dirty comments. Speaking of which, she looked me up and down. "Clary, can I have a word?"

I looked between Jace and Aline, hoping he'd have some helpful way of turning a girl down. From the way he acted, he used to do it on a daily basis. However, he was only chuckling under his breath. "Aline, looking classy as ever, darling," Jace commented, motioning to her heels. She sneered at him.

"Why don't you just go to hell, Jace Herondale, because you're going there eventually?" Aline looked impatiently at me. I registered her stare as a 'not an option' stare. But I had every intention of not going. For weeks she'd been flirting with me despite every other person avoiding the 'jig.' I was halfway sure she had some goal of fucking every girl in the class, but it's whatever. "I know you've got short legs, but _come on_ , Clary, use your lovely ass and get away from these freaks, just for a second."

It was terrifying how she could be so fearless while intending on asking a girl out. She was literally complaining about my friends, my lifestyle, while also asking me to find some decency in her heart to sleep with her. I stood and gave my friends a look of dread before following her to a corner of the cafeteria. Leaning against the wall, I noticed how close she kept getting to me. "Look, Clary, I know what everyone thinks of me." She said, and I was honestly surprised. "I'll admit I do get around a lot." She shrugged, her eyes looking deeply into mine as if we had a connection. I leaned further away as she inched nearer. I just wanted her to finish her clause so I could leave. "And I did want to hook up with Isabelle." No shit. "But you? You're something different to me all together." I tried to keep from laughing. This was too rich. The school slut wanted to have a relationship with me? I didn't buy it for one second. "You're beautiful, soul and all. The way you move with such fiery purpose…it's very alluring, Clarissa." I flinched as she used my real name, but Aline didn't notice. She kept moving closer and closer, staring at my lips. "We'd be good together is all I'm saying." And she paused for a few seconds, waiting for my reaction. When I didn't give her any, she took that a yes and tried closing the distance. I stepped away quickly, dodging a bullet. I wouldn't kiss those lips even if I was sure I was homosexual.

"Aline, that's, uh, flattering," I began, running a hand through my hair. How was I supposed to handle something I knew was bullshit? She just wanted in my panties. She was frowning and nearing me again. Her hands pushed me against the wall by my shoulders, but one of her hands neared my boob. And I snapped. "Aline! Fuck off!" I yelled, shoving her off my body. I glared daggers at her. "I'm not into you."

Everyone was watching us. Aline clearly cared. She looked hurt and very embarrassed for a short second before recovering. Taking a step closer, she whispered. "This is the only offer you'll get, and the last one, Clary. Unless you want the whole school thinking you're straight…" She tilted her head, as if seeing my pity. "No relationship? Fine. Fuck me and I _promise_ the school will hear the gay news."

I rolled my eyes and shouted, "I wouldn't touch your slutty body if you were the last girl on earth!" How much did it take for her to get a message? Everyone started muttering while I moved past her back to my seat. Her friends, however, tripped me on my way. I fell to the floor with a murderous expression. But on my way to slug a redhead, Jace caught my eye. He was shaking his head in warning. I looked up and saw everyone watching me with their phones out. Taking a breath, I finished my walk to my table with the girls calling out insults. Then Aline made her final statement.

"Run back to your fucking boyfriend, stick shit!" She yelled for the entire cafeteria and school to hear. People joined in after that as I sat between not one but two straight guys. It kept getting louder and louder, but I didn't know how to stop it. So I just hunched my shoulders and held in my tears until I got home.

. . .

At lunch the next day, I was back to mostly normal. I'd gone home the previous day without a word to anyone. I felt bad for ignoring Simon's news and still curious about it. But after lunch, I was a wreck. Jace had even tried to comfort me, which was _huge._ Still, all it did was remind me that at least a few people liked me. It was a horrible feeling when the entire school laughed at you for something you were so unsure of.

Today, Jace had made it his personal mission to get me to smile. He poked me in the side, made extra comments about Izzy's racy apparel, complained about how he could hear Jonathan's snoring in his room, and finally imitated it until I was giggling with mirth. He continued making me forget about the stares and the comments, and the occasional food or note being thrown at us. Even as we had little left to talk about, he and I kept glancing up at each other. He'd kick my feet and I'd send him an annoyed look. He'd tease me about my horrid taste of music, seeing as he could hear the loud metallic beat from my earphones.

"What are you two fucking now?" Isabelle scoffed, looking between Jace and I. Then, I choked on my water and Jace watched with widened eyes as it spilled down my shirt and on the table, narrowly missing my phone.

" _What?"_ I slammed my hand on the table, suddenly back into my mood from this morning: pissed. It was one thing for the entire school to be teasing us, but her? Then again, she did know Jace and I had made out once. There was no way she'd spill our secret already, though, even if it were just to Simon. I looked at her with pleading eyes. Simon couldn't know this. Jace and I kissed once, and it was a complete mistake because I was into girls. Slutty girls like Aline? No but girls in general. Sure, Jace and Will were lucky enough to turn me on, but Simon didn't. I couldn't imagine loving Simon like I loved Will. Therefore, all men didn't turn me on.

"Trust me, Izzy, if we were, Clary wouldn't be back at school for a day or so." Jace pointed out. He imitated a face. "Sore." I fisted my hand and lunged toward him, but he was fast and dodged out of my path, forcing me to land awkwardly on my nonexistent boobs, which hurt a lot more than I thought.

"You two have your own secret code," Simon muttered, looking at his sandwich. Only I picked up on his jealous tone. If Isabelle told him…

"I think you've looked at each other more than spoken in the last three days. People are starting to notice," Isabelle shrugged. I still was lost. She rolled her eyes and blushed. "A lot of guys claim if two people really connect during sex, they can communicate with using much less words."

"If there's rumors going around that I'm hooking up with Jace, I don't know how much worse they can get," I groaned as my head hit the table.

"I know. I'd hate for lies multiplying." Jace sounded mildly interested. He leaned forward and tugged at my hair, and in the next moment red fire had swarmed my vision. I gritted my teeth and took deep breaths. "Let's not make liars out of them, Red."

"Like hell," I seethed and stood from the table. Ever since Jace and Isabelle had come into town I was forced to leave lunch early way too often. Huffing, I walked past Jace and bumped him harshly, but he just lunged after me and grabbed my ass.

My hand connected with his cheek instantly, but he was grinning. "Worth it, babe."

. . .

"Ah! He's just so –," I continued on my rant. "And his damn smirk-! Why does he – ugh!" I fell back on the couch, exhausted from dealing with Jace another day. To make matters worse, I could hardly spend time with my brother because Jace would always linger. The sad fact of the matter was that Jace and Jonathan were falling into a quick friendship, one I absolutely loathed. I hardly got to see Jon anyways, but the few time I could sneak off I had to spend it with Jace too?

Simon looked at me sympathetically. "He's an ass. I don't see why you even put up with him," he muttered half-heartedly. I rolled my eyes. I didn't put up with him, not in my book. This was the rudest I'd ever been to a person before, but I felt no guilt because it was Jace Herondale. His name only made me further worry about what it did to my body. My heart had already fluttered alongside the butterflies in my chest. All because of his fucking name.

"Si, how do you know you are a breeder?" I asked, looking at him from my bed. He sat down carefully next to me and smiled, like that question was a _good_ sign.

"When I realized I was staring at Izzy instead of Alec it was a pretty good sign," he laughed. I stayed quiet because it sounded like the only real way of knowing. That's how Jace knew and that was how Jonathan knew. So many people imagined being straight as being so much more, but really it was just that a person was attracted to the opposite sex. Heterosexuals didn't live any different lifestyle. It was that simple. "Why?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I – did you ever have any other signs? Like obvious ones?" My eyes flickered to the pillow beside me, remembering the night before. It was pleasant to the body yet unpleasant to the mind and conscience. It was _so_ wrong. I'd go for hell for just thinking about these things.

Simon grew a knowing look. "You have…dreams?" he was laughing at me. I narrowed my eyes and sat up, shoving my hands on his shoulder.

"Out!" I pointed to the door and continued to shove him when he wouldn't go.

"Who were they of?" Simon laughed, rolling away from me. I groaned and fell back on the bed, covering my face with a pillow. There was no way in hell I'd be answering that. "Who?"

"Please, Simon, I'm begging you to go," I said with real meaning this time. He'd overstepped our unspoken yet known boundary. We hardly talked about sexual things aside from orientation.

Simon stayed quiet for a moment and then walked to the door. I looked up to see an elated grin on his face. Oh no, he thought it was of him. "Don't be ashamed, Clarissa." He shut my door just as I threw my pillow at him. He knew how much I loathed that name, yet he still used it to tease me.

. . .

I giggled purposefully at Jace. My eyes looked him up and down and I made a face, to which he groaned, but he wasn't really annoyed. With the wind roaring around us, his hands went to his shirt. The trees that enraptured us swayed with satisfaction. In the moonlight, his body mesmerized me. I stared and stared but couldn't force myself to remember. The beautiful things in life were so hard to put to memory.

"Your turn," he chimed. I boldly shook out of my dress, leaving me in underwear and a bra. His smile only grew wider, and he took off his pants. His grew underwear hugged him nice and tight, and everything felt perfectly blissful. He winked, and my whole body blushed.

Then he turned his back to me, exposing his blank canvas with muscles rippling every which way. And he bent his legs and dove into the hot spring below us, one the size only a bit bigger than a hot tub. Without his eyes on me, I was suddenly very cold. I ran after him. He was floating on his back in the bright water. Steam rolled off his body and the air around him was all-things-Jace.

I dove in gracefully and looked at his perfect hair. His hands roamed through it. The locks were so soft and fluffy, framing his face and jaw-line perfectly. I swam toward him, but he swam back just as far. I did it again, but so did he. This time I went underwater but he seemed double the distance away from me now. I started swimming at him faster, less gracefully, but the spring kept growing larger and larger, and Jace kept going father and father away. I was splashing his perfectly sculpted hair, getting it damp. He didn't like it.

"Clary," my name rolled off his lip with anger. "What are you doing?" I stopped what I was doing, unsure. But then, something tugged at my leg. I looked down and there was a girl, with a face so beautiful and innocent I couldn't remember. She had black hair and blue eyes and couldn't be older than twelve, but that was all I got.

Her hands wrapped around my calf. "Come with me," she sang in a high pitch. She looked like a peaceful option, but I didn't want to leave Jace. He was sitting outside of the spring again, and I wanted nothing more than to touch his body. "Come with me," she said again, and she started pulling me down, down, down.

"Jace, save me!" I yelled for him, but he just laughed and looked to the side. I gasped when I saw Sebastian sit on his lap and start making out with him. "Jace!"

The girl kept pulling me down, and I lost my fight when Jace's hands roamed over Sebastian's body. And the girl pulled me down under the water where I held my breath for as long as I could, but then I ran out of air.

And I breathed in a mouthful of water.

. . .

I jolted upright. My eyes popped open wide. I was in my room, on the couch, with a book in my lap. I roamed my hands over my shirt and the couch, just to assure myself I wasn't underwater drowning. The room was basking in fading sunlight, tainted orange with its sun setting. I tried to calm my panting breaths.

This was the third dream. The first two were just images of Jace's body, standing in the moonlight with the spring behind him. This time, he was swimming away out of my reach from me. And I was helpless against the pull of the little girl.

But I wasn't really scared or surprised.

I was turned on. The more I thought about it, the only parts I could manage to remember was his toned body drifting away from me. I had run out of time, and he had run out of patience.

 _No._

I wasn't going to let that happen. Going upstairs, I saw my dads on the couch doing a crossword puzzle together. "Clarissa, come sit with us," Valentine smiled distantly. I opened my mouth to protest but then thought better of it. I sat by their feet. "How was school today?"

"Good," I said.

"Clary, give me something to gush about other than good grades, sweetie," Jo sat up and clasped my hands in his. I frowned.

"Jonathan never talked about his love life with us, and that's why his condition took us by such surprise," Valentine said, using his best concerned voice. In translation, they wanted to make sure I was at least talking to some girls.

My anger flared. Of course they'd do this. His 'condition' was nothing more than what turned him on. That was it! It doesn't mean anything more or anything less about him, for goodness sakes. I opened my mouth ready to retaliate. But then I looked back at my father, at his growing frown. If I spoke a bad word to them, I'd never be let out of this house again.

 _I'd definitely lose Jace's patience in that case._

I pressed a fake smile to my lips. "Well, uh, actually I was going to talk to you two about that." I remembered what a lie I was about to tell and that brought blush onto my cheeks. I looked at my feet. "Aline Penhallow - you know her right?" My father frowned slightly and nodded. I took a deep breath as if this was a hard question for me. "She asked me to sleep over."

Jo's eyes went wide. His mouth dropped open and he looked to my father, almost helpless. But Valentine look relieved. He had a soft almost rueful smile on his lips. I hated how much he looked like my brother. Jonathan had that same smile. I looked back to Jo, as if scared of his expression. I hurried out, "Nothing like that Dad!" I laughed awkwardly. "We're just friends, I promise. She is going through a rough patch with her girlfriend and really needs another perspective and a shoulder to cry on... What do you say?"

"Absolutely-," Jo began to say, expression almost scandalous. Valentine instantly cut him off and smiled at me like I was the apple of his eye, the light inside him. This was all I had to do to make him happy. I had never gained that look from him. Now he gave it to me because I was going to whore around with the school slut. How could being a whore be better than conservatively straight? Bile rose in my throat but I forced it down.

"You may go, but you'll have to walk there. She's only at the end of the next street," Valentine rose. I feigned to be shocked even though I knew he'd let me. He'd do anything to ensure I was gay. He'd even let me be a slut; he pushed for it. I nodded and hugged and kissed them both. On the way to my room I heard Jo screaming at Valentine. He only responded with, "Would you rather her be heterosexual? If we keep her from fulfilling her needs, she could slip!"

I took a shuddering breath, no longer acting. Then I threw a hasty sleepover bag together and exited my house. My dads yelled, "Be giving!" Ew.

I looked back to make sure they weren't watching me. Then I walked across the street. When I knocked on the door, Max's voice spoke through the intercom. "Thou shalt enterth Clarieth," Max said in an old English accent. I snickered and hurried inside. When I rode up the elevator, Max was grinning with a sword in his hand and an oversized helmet. Behind him was Alec who watched him with a glint in his eyes. Magnus was also on the couch beside Alec. He had gone all out in armor and everything. I raised an eyebrow.

"Magnus showed him a documentary on King Arthur," Alec sent him a slight smile, leaning back on the couch. I noticed how close they were but didn't say anything. "He thought Max needed to know about things other than comics."

"Hey, they have very good moral lessons," I pointed out. Magnus shrugged.

"Mom and Dad are going to be maad at you two!" Max announced, pushing his helmet up.

"Why is that?"

His eyes got big. "They are sleeping over at a fancy hotel-,"

"Condom meeting," Magnus input.

"What?" I screeched. My eyes got big. Condoms were a growing item these days. I hardly knew anything about them, but I heard jigs used them. Some very conservative gay guys or HIV possible guys used them to protect against STD's, but most didn't. I didn't know what they looked like or anything. To be talked so openly about seemed very foreign and embarrassing to me. I heard it goes on the guy's penis. I started fanning myself.

"Their dad is in the business of condoms, but Alec refuses to tell me how," Magnus rolled his eyes. "I'm assuming that means high up, which means money. So if you are a gold digger, you are out of luck sweetheart because Isabelle isn't single."

"Who's she seeing?" I asked, intrigued. Alec's eyes, which normally were passively angry when I was in his area, seemed to twinkle with a bright light of amusement.

"Your brother," he whispered like it would crush me. I blinked and took a step back. It was so hard imagining my brother as a jig.

"Oh," I said and looked around. "Is Jace her-?" I stopped when I saw the devil himself walk in from the porch. He had a towel on his shoulders and was smirking at me.

Now if there was one thing I got wrong it was his body. He wasn't a bare muscled guy. Instead, Jace had tattoos littered all over his chest and arms and stomach. His rock hard six pack was outshone by the v-line leading down to his... Along with golden twinkling hair leading down... His biceps were defined all to well. All of his tats were black, too, which showed off his contrast. I wanted nothing more than to lick up and down his abs, grabbing his biceps and…and I tried to stop these thoughts until I realized something.

I had come over here to somewhat seduce Jace. I wanted his body too much. But I didn't know if I was ready to have sex for the one reason that by doing so, I'd basically be admitting to being straight. I was sure Jace would keep the secret for me, but was I ready to face it myself? I was in the same boat as Jon. Our parents hated us because of something that need not define us. When my dads made jokes about jigs I could no longer stay in denial and think, "Good thing I'm gay."

But my body couldn't resist Jace any longer. Already I had taken steps toward him. I gulped and tried not to make it obvious of how much I'd been checking him out. There was a good chance my head and neck were already tomato red.

"Why are you making that face?" Max asked. I looked to him suddenly, mouth going slack.

"Yes, why are you, Red?" Jace stepped towards me with a dubious smile on his face.

I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest, looking at him with an annoyed expression. "I need to talk to you."

Jace nodded his heads toward where I assumed was his room. This place needed a map. I followed him and realized I was again wrong at his backside. His muscles were slightly less defined but mainly because ink covered them up. It looked like Polynesian designs to me. I'd have to remember to ask him later. He stepped into his room and I closed the door behind me. If anyone else heard what I was about to stumble my way through, I'd die.

"Couldn't hold your grudge very long," Jace stated leaning against his dresser. I took a breath to shove down my annoyance. He was only doing this because I refused to talk to him since he had kissed me. It had been a full awkward week.

"Jace, I'm straight." I didn't know what else to say. There wasn't much thought to coming over. I assumed we could hang out and kiss, but details were not on my mind. Hell, I didn't even know if he wanted a relationship or just a fling.

"I think we all gathered that from my entrance," he pointed out, grabbing a bottle of water. My eyes followed the motion of him drinking almost by themselves. "You looked at me like I was the last drop of water."

"You know what, this was a stupid, stupid idea," I turned. He couldn't be serious for one second. It took a lot to admit that. And he just blew it off! I opened the door, but suddenly Jace's hand clamped onto my wrist and spun me around, thereby closing the door. I caught my breath when I saw - or felt how close he'd gotten. I could feel his next breath. And his body was only inches from mine.

"I'm sorry," he said the words like they were vomit. He must not have apologized often. "What's your point?"

I bit my lip and tried to make one. When I didn't, I shrugged. "My point is that we could continue what we were doing before..."

Jace gave me a once over. "Now that it's official, I have a better idea."

I didn't like the way he was looking at me. Now I was the water. "Like what?"

He smirked. "I'm going to show you how it is to have a little fun. It's quite enjoyable when people are just like you."

I frowned. "Jace, don't go crazy on me."

"We are going to a club in New York," he stepped forward, connecting our hips. I gasped. Our eyes were connected with a fiery heat.

"Tonight?" I squeaked.

"Tonight," he nodded. Then he stepped away. "We have a two hour drive so we can spend the night there..." He stopped when he remembered something.

I smiled ruefully. "My dads think I'm at Aline's house."

His smile tore back onto his lips. His eyes looked me over again, devouring everything they could get. "How ironic. You'll be doing the exact opposite of what they are thinking."

I almost fainted.

"But first we need to get you out of those dreadful clothes," he shook his head. I stepped forward and looked down. "Nothing is wrong with them, except that they cover just about every inch of your body."

He grabbed my hand and I was surprised by how hot his was. I felt it in my stomach immediately. Jace took me to Izzy's room and barged in without knocking. Inside Isabelle had her head on Jonathan's stomach as she talked on and Jon listened. I was surprised at how...PG this scene was. With the way Isabelle talked I had assumed the worst.

"Clary," Jon smiled and gently got up. He faltered when he saw my hand in Jace's. I pushed through it and hugged him. "How did you get away on Saturday night?"

"They think I'm off being a good ole gay teenager," I smiled. Jonathan laughed and ruffled my hair. I let my smile drop. Jonathan had never been protective of me, but that was when he didn't know the guy. Jace and him had become fast friends, Izzy said, so he could either be offended we were hooking up or mad at him for pursuing me. I was hoping for the third option; he'd be indifferent. I didn't know what to expect or how to ease my way into it so I just said, "Actually...Jace and I are going to New York."

* * *

 **A/N: This one is extra long to make up for the wait. Soooo…what do you think Clary and Jace are going to do? Ahhh! Tellmewhatyouallthink! Actually, you really need to read this, especially those guest users...**

 **THIS STORY IS CHANGING TO AN** M RATED **STORY.**

 **Yes, you know what that means, I'd hope. It doesn't jump right in it, of course. If you want to skip it, I'll put in warnings when I think it gets graphic. Missing those sexual scenes won't really mean toooo much, but I always try to relate them to the plot more than most, so.**

**Just bc what's coming is quite special, lemme see the love, pls? Can we reach nine reviews? Come on. Those who skip over it, pls leave a tiny little comment. Pls? NINE!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 9**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

 **Warning: no explicitly sexual content this chapter. Next chapter, there will be, so you have been pre-warned. This is just a little flirty. ;)**

* * *

"New York?" Isabelle chimed in. "I want to go."

"Oops no whores allowed," Jace said. Izzy smacked him, hard.

"What are you guys doing in New York?" Jonathan asked, looking at Jace. They were supposedly good mates, but now I saw it with my own eyes. Jon was never a protective brother, but he was always cautious of where I was rather than whom I was with. He never trusted me to go across town for a sleepover let alone New York. Yet he trusted me with Jace.

"Clubbing," Jace said.

Jonathan grinned. "Together?" Jace nodded and owned a similar expression of dirtiness, one that got my heart fluttering. He and Jace did a handshake-turned hug…over the fact that Jace was probably having sex with Jonathan's own sister. Real classy, bro. "She's needed to get laid for a while now, man. Thank God!"

"Hey-,"

"Izzy, get Clary something to wear." Jace didn't even ask. Isabelle nodded and looked me over. Then she turned into her closet. I followed, a little weary of what she was going to pick. If you took one look at her you'd understand my point. Currently, she had on a high waisted leather black skirt with a leather top that I'd classify as a bra but it clearly wasn't. She had spikes and such all over the place but the amount of skin showing stood out the most.

"You're much too small for most of my clothes..." Isabelle muttered. I gained a little hope. I wanted Jace to be excited, but I didn't want the whole club to be looking at me. I probably couldn't pull most of those clothes off anyhow. "I wear this as a tunic length shirt, but it'll work for you."

I looked at the garment she held. It was all lace and it was see-through on my sides. She grabbed a pair of above the knee black boots and some leather gloves with spikes. My eyes grew wide in fear. That couldn't ever fit me! It was much too short. "Oh just put the bloody thing on." She threw it at my chest. I took a deep breath as she exited the closet.

I was the only one left in the closet so with a sigh I put it on, but I really didn't want to walk out like that in front of my brother. I thought even he might flip out. I exited anyways. Luckily, the boys were gone.

Isabelle motioned me forward and then walked a 360 around me. I could feel her eyes judging me. She tugged on the dress and handed me the boots, setting to work on my hair. "Did you shave, Clary?"

"Uh, yes," I said.

"Good, Jace is quite particular about that stuff. What about your pajamas?"

"What about them?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes in the mirror. Her hands were running through my hair and pinning it up. "You need lingerie to wear. Here, take...this," she held up a pair from her drawer. It was, of course, black. I sighed and stuffed it in my bag, hating that I'd actually use the things she gave me.

"Thank you, Isabelle," I said when she was done. She had given me a leather jacket but informed me to take it off in the club. Her response was for me to send Jonathan back up to her room. I about gagged when I saw her tug off her dress.

When I got downstairs, Jace had changed into real clothes. He had on black jeans, a dark grey shirt, and a leather jacket to match. It all licked his body in a perfect way. I had to resist the urge to crash my lips onto his. Jonathan was looking over my outfit. "I don't like it..." He stated and looked back to Jace, who had a delighted grin on his face. "Don't let her dance with many other guys."

"She'll be lucky to dance with any other," Jace walked to me and held out his arm, wrapping it around my shoulders first and drawing it down. I thought my panties were already wet.

"Bye, Jon," I called over my shoulder.

"Love you," he laughed on his way upstairs.

I looked to Jace, who was picking at the lace on my dress. "This is going to be fun," he grinned, and I couldn't help but grin right back at him.

. . .

The ride to New York took a little longer than we expected. Jace called some fancy hotel on the way there and got us a room. We planned on driving there, dropping off our stuff, and then walking the streets to the nearest club. I had never been clubbing before. I'd only heard about it from Jonathan, who'd went a couple times his junior year.

"Did you do this a lot in California?" I asked as we entered Manhattan. He nodded his head. "Wait, there's guy bars and girl bars. Which one will we be going to?" In most movies, there was a chance that girls would go into guy bars and vice versa, but most of the time it didn't happen. Gays would dance with the opposite gender, but it was no fun to them. At a party or a group outing, they'd simply choose one bar and dance together.

"There's also straight bars, Clary," Jace chuckled slightly. I had never thought straight bars would be allowed. "New York is like a little taste of California. Most people don't blink an eye to you here. In California, though, there's so many straights you don't feel like you're bat shit crazy."

I had trouble believing that. We pulled into the hotel's parking garage, which meant it had to be a big hotel. Jace took my bag before I could even get out of the car. When we checked in, the lady gave us a weird look. "One bed?" She asked.

"One bed," Jace nodded. My heart jumped. I couldn't believe I was going to have sex tonight with Jace Herondale. After weeks of raping him with my eyes, I'd get to see every last inch of his body.

"Your parents must trust such a strong, er, sibling bond to keep you safe in the city for one night," she commented with distaste, knowing full and well we weren't related. Her eyes slid slowly from us to her computer, typing in the information with a snooty aura around her. I took a breath and looked at Jace, whom had his jaw locked. This was the first time Jace had gotten mad over a heterophobic act.

"We aren't related, but yes, our parents do trust us," I said, wrapping an arm around Jace's bicep. The lady's eyes went wild. She immediately looked back down, trying to keep a composed face as if she were going to puke.

When she finally gave us our room keys, we found the room quickly. It had a window view of the streets below, which were buzzing with people even at eleven at night. Before the window was a king sized bed and a nightstand. Everything was fancy and decked out in styles I couldn't imagine creating. The bathroom was on my immediate left where there was a small bath and a separate standing only shower in a square shape. It was also decorated elegantly.

"This is too nice," I nodded towards the fridge, microwave, and little kitchen set with a stove and everything. "Jace, you've got to be kidding." I turned back to him, crossing my arms.

He wasn't looking at the room, however. His eyes were on me, studying. It was like he wanted to make sure I loved this. I sighed and walked up to him, forcing the bags to the ground. "Jace..."

"Get settled in," his hand moved to my cheek, causing my whole body to erupt into flames. He reached around to my hair and let it in its loose waves. "I'm going to show you just how fun being straight is."

. . .

The wind whipped at our skin without either of our jackets. He and I walked a couple of blocks, but I assumed he knew his way around New York because it wasn't long before I noticed the change. We took one turn and suddenly everything was different. The shops had ads and graffiti about jigs, the posters talked about straight rights, and most noticeably straight couples were flooding the street. Every time I saw a hetero couple, my eyes lingered so much Jace had to keep me from running into things. There had been a total of about 10 so far, but that was only the couple's.

"What do you say, Red? Little different?" Jace bumped my shoulder. He was headed in the direction of these neon lights, but I was fine just taking it all in.

We walked past a group of people and a guy _checked me out_. My jaw dropped and I looked to Jace for reassurance. He actually was grinning, his smile reaching his eyes and everything. "He checked me out, right? It wasn't you?"

Jace snorted. "Gays rarely venture down here," he said as we came to a stop at the entrance to this club, which was called Pandemonium. It seemed darker than I was expecting, which meant Jace definitely found it himself. He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, hot and breathy, "If you are excited about him checking you out once, you should be to the moon and back with how many times I've done it."

I gulped and looked at him ruefully. He winked and continued forward past the long line of people waiting. The bouncer waited on us like he was excited to kick us out. "Jace Herondale." Jace spoke calmly. The bouncer didn't even check his list before he let us through.

"Do I even want to know?" I whispered.

Jace chuckled and took my hand as we wove our way through the crowds of people. "Let's just say when you are planning on taking over daddy's new position, you know a lot of people."

"What is daddy's position exactly?" He had to have been something big to start in California and now his name reached New York. Pandemonium is a big club, but not that big.

"Hmm…I'll tell you after tonight," he said as we reached the main floor. It was packed. I'd never seen something like this in my life or in movies. Bodies were on bodies, not caring who they danced with. Girl on girl was more common than guy on guy, surprisingly, but they both seemed rare in comparison to the rest of the crowd. Girl on guy dancing was everywhere. "This is one of three straight clubs on this street. To reach another straight club you'd have to go to another burrow."

I turned around and gaped at him. He sent me a smile. "Wow," was all I could say.

He chuckled. "Go dance. I'll get us drinks," he said. Drinking wasn't the most uncommon thing for me. I'd done it numerous times with Jonathan. Dancing was, however. I wasn't bad, but this was dirty dancing. I had never danced like that with guys before. Or girls even.

A guy came up to me and asked for a dance, smiling comically. I debated, looking over to find Jace for an out. The guy took that as a yes and pulled on my arm. I sighed and decided why not. So I faced the guy and started moving to the beat, which was fast and hypnotic. Most people were grinding their bodies against each other, but I didn't feel the desire to do that with this stranger. Plus, there was no doubt I'd be terrible.

He and I danced for the remainder of one song. It was nice, I supposed. He didn't know what he was doing, though. We barely were dancing together, but I did get a little relaxed in this atmosphere that was so foreign to me. When the song ended, I snuck away back to my starting point. If I couldn't find Jace at least I'd be rid of that guy.

An arm snaked its way around my waist and I gasped, spinning around in surprise, but then I saw those bright eyes full of mirth. "Did you get cozy with big bubba over there?" He tipped his drink towards the general direction we had been dancing. I gasped and slapped his shoulder.

"You could have saved me, you know!"

"But it was such fun watching you tough it out," he grinned. I laughed and stole the drink he had in his hand for me, sipping lightly. A new song came on, one that was dirtier than the last. I could feel the mood shift. By now I'd finished my drink and could feel a buzz running through my veins. Jace's hand suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me out onto the dance floor with him.

We found our way to the middle of the dance floor and I had expected him to do something similar to what I'd just done, but Jace was always full of surprises. Suddenly, he spun me around in place, his hands gripping my hips, _tightly_. I fought the urge to throw my head back in satisfaction. Jace's head was on my left side, cheek to cheek, and I could feel his breath on my skin.

"Roll your hips with mine, Red," Jace breathed in a deep voice, commanding. I had no urge to fight back. His hands guided my hips. My butt rolled along his crotch, but to my disappointment I could hardly feel anything. Jace, however, seemed to like it out of the slightest sound he made. "Again. Speed it up."

Other girls around us danced like this with guys, so I based it off of them. I gripped his forearms and rolled my body to the beat. His hands helped me out a lot, switching up directions and such. But by the next song, I had it under control. We stopped and each took a shot, grinning at each other when we went back out. Now I was very buzzed, almost tipsy if you looked at the way I walked. But I had no qualms anymore.

Jace had gone to the bathroom and was across the dance floor when the new song started. I knew this one. Instantly, I grabbed a guy near me and started grinding with him, just how Jace taught me, but I held back a bit. Still it was enough to enrich a fire in the golden boy's eyes. He watched me roll my body and work my hips, all the time keeping our eyes locked. Mid song he couldn't take it and stormed across the floor.

"Hands off," Jace stared the guy, who was quite drunk, down. He backed up quickly. I giggled profusely as Jace handled me with firm aggression. "Naughty little Clary."

I winked, and suddenly his chest was pressed to back. Jace placed his hands again at my hips. I let my hands roam up, caressing his face as I sang to the song. His hands were of more interest to me. They moved down inch by inch every couple of seconds. The music was so loud you couldn't hear us, but we were both screaming the lyrics. I gasped as Jace's hand reached over my sex, resting there with much pressure.

"Jace," I cooed, not in warning but in something else entirely: pleasure. I could feel his breath as he chuckled. I suddenly realized as I continued to move my hips, I could feel something long and hard compared to just his muscle. Jace was growing a boner. He spun me around and I threw my arms over his neck. It was slightly disappointing to have his hands away from my vagina, but the next thing I felt was just as good. One of his hands held tightly onto the small of my back and the other groped my ass. Jace slammed out bodies together. We moved our hips as one, and a fire started to build inside me at every touch.

A slow song came on so we finally decided to break. We were both panting, and Jace slung his arm around my shoulders. I stepped into him, trying to memorize the smell he owned that could only be described as pure Jace.

"You are a great dancer, Clary," Jace sighed deeply as we made our way to the bar. He sat down while his arms wrapped around me, hugging me from behind. I fell back into him and got a drink.

"Wow, a compliment from Jace," I muttered with a smile. "This should go down in history."

Jace laughed. "That mouth...you'll be fun in bed," he commented. I nearly choked on my drink. "Oh no, no more for you, Red. You are going to remember tonight." He swiftly stole the drink from my hands. I frowned. Two could play at this game.

"Fine. You sit here and drink," I pointed to the dance floor. "I'll go dance."

I didn't wait for his answer as I tore out of Jace's arms. I walked to the outer edge of a dance circle. After a little while of dancing, a girl came up to me and commented through her drunken giggles. "If you really want to turn your boyfriend on, dance with me."

I blushed at the mention of boyfriend. I never used that word for Will. It felt wrong. I had a boyfriend. Was Jace even my boyfriend though? Either way, I did want to turn him on. But this sounded a little redundant. "But we're, uh..."

"Straight?" She threw her head back and cackled. It spooked me a bit. "Darling, so am I. Guys love the idea of a threesome with two hot girls - straight guys, that is."

I blinked. This was news to me. I looked back over to Jace. He moved from his seat to the railing around the dance floor, leaning curiously on it. I looked back to the girl and asked her name. "Maia."

She and I threw our arms around each other and danced like crazy. We got close. She rubbed her butt against me and I did the same, following her lead. After a bit I looked back over to Jace. He had an amused look of surprise on his face, but I saw his eyes. They were dark with lust. "Want him to really go crazy?"

I nodded, already liking his expression from here. Maia turned us to the side and grabbed my face in her arms. Before I knew what she was doing, her lips were on mine. They were softer than Jace's and much softer than Will's. She was far too gentle, though. And I was surprised that there was absolutely no spark between us. When we pulled apart, she was grinning. "Call me if you are ever near Alicante!" Maia handed me her phone number. It surprised me because I'd never heard of Maia, but she was from my town.

She glanced over my shoulder and giggled. Then she was gone and something hot clamped onto my wrist. I gasped in pleasure-filled pain and spun around. "Clary, Clary, Clary," Jace breathed, stepping into my face. He was so much taller than me. "Thought you were clever, huh?"

"Just a bit," I said in a breathy whisper. Jace's eyes twinkled with mischief. He chuckled lightly before his hands grabbed my waist and pulled me into him. His lips attacked mine in seconds. They were much more demanding than Maia's and much more thrilling. He tasted like I remembered, possibly even better. His lips pressed so hard it almost hurt, but it was a pain I looked forward to. His tongue licked its way past my lips into my mouth and I almost moaned. My hands gripped his shoulders. I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted him. "Hotel. Now."

He nodded and quickly pecked me again. Then we intertwined our hands and practically ran back outside. As we walked briskly back to the hotel, our eyes kept connecting. By the time we reached the elevator, I couldn't take it anymore. The metal doors slid shut. My hands connected to his chest, shoving him harshly back against the wall. We had sixteen floors to go.

I jumped Jace, and he welcomed it, holding onto my ass as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I started kissing him again, relishing his glorious tongue. My hands were in his hair, pulling and tugging vigorously. His hair was softer than I imagined. His hands squeezed my butt hard enough to make me whimper. Our tongues connected and I groaned. My back arched into him, and my chest pressed against his.

The doors dinged and slid open. Jace didn't stop to put me down. He and I walked out and he rolled my back into the wall. I broke apart and started kissing along his jawline. He had the faintest bit of scruff. Jace strode towards our room number and turned the key. When we were inside Jace slammed me up against the door, but he didn't kiss me yet. I breathed deeply, waiting. He smirked boyishly and murmured, "What do I want to do with you first?"

* * *

 **A/N: Ahh I love it guys! So many reviews! I'm surprised so many people like this. I worried people would be offended but he world I've created. Whew. Anyhow, many of you said your reviews weren't posting. I can't say I'm surprised. Ever since I've been on here, it takes a couple of days to 'post' the guest reviews. However, I get the email with it, do not fret. I see them, so thank you darlings! It used to annoy me that it wouldn't count them in the review count or post them, but I've gotten over it. It normally posts all the ones from members, however.**

 **Anyways…I couldn't help but cut this short. You're in for a head-thrasher next chapter! Eeep! I can't wait for you all to read it. Until then, my loves!**

 **Now how many reviews can I get for some sex? Ten? Fifteen? I'm guessing you'll give me something between, right? All of you? Plz!**

* * *

 **Update: Come on guys my boyfriend literally just broke up with me. Pity reviews are more greatly appreciated than ever rn.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

 **The last (non-sex) part of this is was written while listening to/inspired by the song "Add It Up" by Shawn Mendes. Listen to it for the 'full effect'. Or don't. You know.**

* * *

 **Warning: M rated scenes are about to occur. You've been warned. Read at your own adult risks.**

 _Previously..._

 _He nodded and quickly pecked me again. Then we intertwined our hands and practically ran back outside. As we walked briskly back to the hotel, our eyes kept connecting. By the time we reached the elevator, I couldn't take it anymore. The metal doors slid shut. My hands connected to his chest, shoving him harshly back against the wall. We had sixteen floors to go._

 _I jumped Jace, and he welcomed it, holding onto my ass as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I started kissing him again, relishing his glorious tongue. My hands were in his hair, pulling and tugging vigorously. His hair was softer than I imagined. His hands squeezed my butt hard enough to make me whimper. Our tongues connected and I groaned. My back arched into him, and my chest pressed against his._

 _The doors dinged and slid open. Jace didn't stop to put me down. He and I walked out and he rolled my back into the wall. I broke apart and started kissing along his jawline. He had the faintest bit of scruff. Jace strode towards our room number and turned the key. When we were inside Jace slammed me up against the door, but he didn't kiss me yet. I breathed deeply, waiting. He smirked boyishly and murmured, "What do I want to do with you first?"_

. . .

Jace leaned forward, slowly, and kissed me with passion instead of haste. His hands ran down my sides teasingly. I gripped his biceps and restricted a moan, but he still felt it through his mouth and smiled into our kiss. I couldn't breathe so I had to pull away, and Jace started kissing down my throat in search of something unknown to me. I gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, which was where he stopped and really started sucking. I thought he was trying to suck my blood by the force of it and let out a moan, my head falling back against the door making a loud bang.

He nipped at my skin and I whimpered. "Jace," I breathed. He brought his hands to my butt and squeezed briefly on his venture to the hem of my dress. He and I locked eyes as his head came back to my level. I pressed my hips away from the door and nodded. Soon my dress was on the floor. I scratched at his skin and reached for his shirt while he just stared at my chest. Knowing this, I took deep breaths and his eyes turned even darker as I moved my chest.

"You're breathtaking, Red," Jace breathed against my skin as he peppered soft kisses along my collarbone. My hands finally freed his body and roamed along his hard panes of muscles that made my head fall into his shoulder in a moan. They found their way to his back and stopped. He'd said he still had the scars, but I didn't know what from. I'd only heard of electrotherapy. These were whip marks, and they were huge. I could count at least nine that truly just blended together, but I didn't doubt there had been many more. He and I looked into each other's eyes for a second. "What are you going to say, Red?" His eyes asked but his lips stayed sealed. My stomach quivered at the idea of him being harmed, especially at a young age. He didn't deserve it. But he also didn't deserve to be quitted of hot sex because of it. I pushed my protective thoughts to the side easier than I would have imagined and let my hands truly feel what was beneath the scars.

"God, Jace, you're ripped," I said between breaths. His serious wall fell and he chuckled against my skin. I could feel his boner poking against my ass. His lips started kissing above my boobs and my head started to swim. With one expert hand he unlatched my bra and threw it to the floor. Then his lips were on my nipples, sucking hard. I whimpered into his mouth as my body arched towards him. "Don't stop."

His tongue twirled around and flicked my nipple. His hands reached down to the space between my legs, teasing me along my panty line. "Are you wet for me, babe?"

All I could do was breathe a "yes" to keep from coming then and there. I was on the verge and he hadn't even come near my vagina. "J-Jace..."

Without another word, his hand cupped my sex over my underwear and I screamed. Waves of pleasure were so close just barely out of my reach. "Come for me, baby, _now_." He demanded in a growl that was so harsh it sounded more animalistic. It sent me over the edge and I moaned his name.

"Jace, oh Jace," I panted. He sat me down and stepped away, letting me recover. After I finally came down off my high, I saw him rummaging in his bag on the inside pocket. Walking behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging his firm torso. I could feel his body's every move, and it gave me a secure feeling that was so foreign to me. "Jace, baby, what are you doing?" I breathed when I caught my breath.

"Finding something we need," he said and stood up with a smirk. He held a small item in his hands. It looked metallic yet malleable. Tinfoil. The design was unfamiliar to me, however, and the name didn't ring a bell.

"What's that?" I said against his back muscles, pressing soft kisses between every breath. His chuckles caused me to shake with him. They stopped abruptly when I didn't join in.

"How many times did you and Will have sex, Clary?"

I shrugged. "Five, but we did other stuff more...why?"

Jace cursed and spun around, looking me over. "Please, God, tell me you've had your period since then." There was panic in his voice that made me answer so quickly without any shame.

"Yes, how is that even related?" I asked, the same amount of alarm going into my tone. His eyes, however, lost their disarray. Jace pulled me into a hug, one I didn't know what for.

"I happen to know a little about breeding," Jace said. "When breeders or heteros have sex the girl can get pregnant, even after one time." I paled at the little tidbit that had previously slipped my mind. Pulling away, I brought my face to my palm. "And if your period comes late after hetero sex, it's probably a sign you're pregnant."

"Shit, Jace, we forgot about all of that," I cursed. "This fucking sucks. I can't get pregnant! My dads-,"

Jace beamed and pecked my lips, his hands brushing down my wild hair. "That's why I have a condom, Red. Best protection there is for our kind."

I eyed the little wrapper he held up and laughed. "You're joking! That little thing? Jace. I've seen a dick before. If yours is that small, we'll be having some issues..."

Jace's expression turned from mirth to serious anger. His eyes lost all light; I hurt his pride. His hands grabbed my arms and, in one breath, threw me to the bed. Jace was soon to follow. He was turned on. Before I could grin, his lips were back on mine. His hands, which previously had moved delicately with no surprises, roamed all over me. Will had grabbed my boobs before, but I'd never been groped, which was the only way to describe the way his hands felt along my chest. His tongue distracted me from his touch, which annoyed me, because it felt so good.

I closed my eyes as his lips traced down my neck again. But we were just here. I didn't have patience for any more foreplay. "Jace-,"

"Say it," Jace demanded, talking against my lips. My body jolted at the vibrations I got from him. His hand played with me, pinching my nipple. I squealed and arched my back into him. His legs kicked apart my knees, and I wrapped them around his back, pulling him down on me. When I felt his body heat and hardness against my core, I resisted a moan. "Say it, Clary."

"Fuck me," I breathed out in a tone that was deeper and huskier than I'd ever heard from me. I could feel his dick twitch against my thighs even through his jeans. "Fuck me, Jace, please fuck me-,"

His lips attacked mine in search of blood. He didn't give me any breathing room. My hand worked at his buckle, and he had to pause to kick off his jeans. "Panties off," he demanded, still on his knees hovering over me. I took a shaky breath and pulled the black lace off me, slightly annoyed when I found it soaking. Jace's underwear hung too low on his hips. My free hand inched them down, and Jace pulled my panties out of my own hand. He grabbed his jeans he'd previously laid on the bed and tucked them in the pocket, but I was too focused on his underwear to notice.

Finally, I ripped them down to his knees, and Jace smirked. I could hear him teasing me with his eyes. A little eager, are we Red? His erection sprouted proudly. I grew a smile that matched my libido. His dick was big in both size and length, but mainly length. My mouth was watering. "Damn Jace," I muttered, awe shocked. In the back of my mind I worried if he would even fit. Will wasn't that big. Jace had to be nearing 9 inches. "You're huge!"

Jace, with a painful smile, tore open the foil package. I propped myself up on my elbows to watch what he called protection. "Come here, Clary," he muttered. I crawled over on my stomach, and my head ended up at the same level as his penis. He held something almost transparent in his hands, the color of his skin and in a circular shape. Just because he was teasing me too much, I flicked my tongue along his head, tasting the precum. Jack gave a panty-dropping groan. "Clary." He warned.

"Sorry," my voice twinkled with amusement, however, and I wasn't sorry. Jace opened his eyes again and focused on my ass for a split second.

"This catches my cum," Jace said through clenched teeth as he rolled the thing that seemed to never end on. It looked very thin.

"Can I put it on?" I asked as he began rolling it. He looked up with a dubious smile.

"Next time." He affirmed. Next time. I was glad he confirmed there being a next time. I'd never get bored of his body. His tongue alone...

He was very concentrated on getting the condom on. With a boost of confidence, I rolled back to the top of the bed onto my back. Then I spread my legs wide and waited. When Jace finished he looked up and bit his lip. "Holy fuck," he said and practically pounced on me.

I welcomed his body, my hands roaming up and down his abs over and over. His lips and mine morphed together, dancing to the beat of our hearts. He squeezed my ass and I squeezed his bicep. The play went on until I couldn't stand it any longer.

"Jace," I whined, tugging at his hair. I pulled away and he looked into my eyes as I flicked them down momentarily. Grinning, he positioned himself at my entrance. Then, he thrust his hips forward.

He and I let out moans simultaneously. My nails dug into his shoulder. His eyes connected to mine as he pulled almost all the way out and then slammed back into me, hard. Jace sped up his pace, continuing hard and fast. He reached at the back of my right knee and pulled it over his shoulder, groaning as he went even deeper into me. I could feel my body building tension deep in my stomach.

"Don't stop, Godd Jace," I panted and brought my other leg up over his shoulder, glad for my flexibility. Jace went so deep every time our centers hit together. And almost every thrust I let out a whimper and moan.

I could tell he was nearing the end because his breathing became even heavier. Yet his pace hardly faltered. His stamina astounded me. Then Jace'd fingers reached my clit and pinched lightly with every thrust. I screamed his name, holding back my finish.

"Let go, baby, let go," he leaned down close to my ear, and I could feel his hot breath on it. And just like that, my orgasm wracked through my body with even more force.

Jace let out a shuddering, broken groan as he released. His body fell onto me, head in my hair as he finished. I continued breathing deeply, trying to calm my heart.

 **WARNING ENDED. MATURE CONTENT OVER**

Eventually, he rolled off me. "Jace that was..."

"How can anyone think that's unnatural?" Jace sighed. He turned on his side while his hands traced circles on the side of my breast.

I shrugged. "It's a sin." It was true; we sinned. But that really didn't matter to me. I sinned before. I believed God would forgive me. He didn't like what I was, that was true, but that didn't mean I was positively going to hell. He can forgive.

"So is adultery but you don't see prejudice against cheaters, Clary," Jace growled. Now I could see our environment affected him more than he let on. I grew up here. I knew everyone hated straights. I didn't expect any less, but I did hope for more from my family. It wouldn't be pretty, but maybe if I broke it to them slowly they'd grant me some mercy.

"You think my dads will hate me if I come out, too?" I whispered, eyes blinking fast. Jace didn't answer. He snaked an arm around my waist and rubbed my skin.

"I don't know, Red," he murmured as he pressed his lips to my shoulder. I sighed. "But I do know you'll always have me. You deserve...so much more, but you will have me."

I turned on him and frowned. Somehow, this comment didn't surprise me. He put on such a cocky bravado that if he didn't actually think so lowly of himself, he would have been a grade-A douche. I leaned my head down and kissed his hair while secretly smelling him, too. "You deserve to be happy, too, Jace. Do I make you happy?"

Jace laughed without meaning. "Happy doesn't begin to describe what you make me feel, Clare." I smiled.

"Then we deserve each other." But he only sighed and looked past me towards the window with discontent.

He didn't agree.

. . .

I was back at the house across the street reading to Max. He was a good kid, I decided. His cousin was even better, but the cousin definitely wasn't a kid. I looked up across the room at him. Will looked a lot Max. They both had bright blue eyes and black hair. I knew Max would grow up to be a handsome little nerd. But Will? He was already so handsome.

He was talking on the phone to somebody. "Will! Clary won't stop looking at you. Whom are you even talking to?" Max yelled. Will craned his neck back at us. His eyes ran up and down my body in a way no guy had ever done. Despite our previous summer, I was still surprised at how good it felt. Growing a grin, he answered.

"Izzy," Will said. "Kinda cousin."

Max rolled his hands impatiently. A few minutes later, Will joined us, sitting beside me instead of Max. Where our legs touched I could feel a cool burn seep through to my stomach. We read to Max for a while, and then Will's moms came home. Their eyes locked on how close our legs were touching.

"Who are you?" The black haired woman asked. I stuttered and looked to Will. He seemed content with the fate he was sentenced. His moms almost never came home this early. It was a Monday. They should have been at work at three in the evening!

Instead of saying I was his friend from school, he said, "Clary is my girlfriend, Mom." Her face said it all. I whirled on Will. He'd told me that his parents found out about his sexuality three days before. I didn't know how, but he clearly didn't offer it up willingly. Now he was going to drop another bomb on them that he had a girlfriend?

"This is the girl you are always on the phone with?" The blonde woman scoffed with hostility. "This is the girl who had disgraced this family, bringing a condom into our house for all the neighbors to see?"

I didn't know what she was talking about. Will and I…well we didn't do much talking. Condom? I didn't bring it. I didn't know what the hell one even looked like. We never really thought about that. I mean we'd only had sex three times before, none of which were even at his house. But the condom didn't really matter to me. Her tone caught my attention with so much disgusted hatred. She talked about me like I was his pet.

"Get her out of this house. Right now." She said again, setting her jaw. I blinked in shock. This wasn't something I'd ever dreamed of experiencing. He said his parents knew about his sexuality. I supposed they never really believed it or just couldn't face the living proof.

Will and I left to his car, driving far away from either of our homes. He explained his parents were paranoid. They hardly ever included him in anything anymore. He said Max got more attention than he did anymore. I did my best to comfort him, but he and I both knew what the best and seemingly only way to comfort him was.

We started making out heatedly in the parking lot of our school. I was stripped of clothes pretty fast. We went at it. Hard. There was no stopping and no gentleness. He was an animal, moving us in ways I never thought possible. And it helped distract him.

Then I was standing by his pool in my undergarments and a robe wrapped around me. Something was at the bottom of the deep end, blurry and big. I glanced back at Will's room, where his terrace connected by an open window. I didn't know where Will was. I remembered sneaking over to his house the night before and falling asleep after sex. Will had been strangely distant about it. After, he didn't cuddle me. Instead, he was talking to Izzy for hours in his bathroom. I had heard him cry and decided it was best to not bother him and his family.

But then I woke up with no trace of Will. I didn't want to search for him because his moms were home, but his phone was left in his bathtub. Shattered. He never left his phone. And if it were broken, he'd have been flipping out. He and Izzy were _extremely_ close. I doubted he could go a week without talking to her about everything.

I remembered running around his house in secret, checking out the kitchen and hallways and the library. Nothing came up. Eventually, I had ran into his moms. They were furious about me being here. "I hope to hell he's run away because this is the last straw!" The blonde haired one growled. I jumped at the harshness in her voice and the sincerity of it.

"I'll leave, but please, I love him. I have t-to know he's okay," I begged, grabbing the black haired sympathetic one's hand. She jerked away but nodded curtly.

I heard them screaming before I got outside. The black haired women crumpled onto her knees in sobs while the blonde haired lady stood rigidly, a face full of absolute shock. And there I was, staring in the pool with confusion.

"What's down there, Aunt Linette?" Max came running out carrying a comic book. I squinted down at the item. It was so big. No wonder it was sunken. I looked to the older women hoping for a response as well.

"Get out." The blonde said in a raspy whisper. By their feet saw a jewelry box with a handwritten letter folded delicately on top. It had the Herondale stamp on it, which puzzled me. This was the Herondale household. Why would their family send them a formal letter instead of calling them? "GET OUT!"

I stumbled backwards and fell, eyes growing wide. And by then the ripples in the pool had stilled, and I saw what was tied to a chest at the bottom of the pool. My heart stopped.

Tied by his pale, lifeless ankle was Will Herondale.

I shot upright gasping for air as if I had been the one in that pool. My eyes were watery with tears but I could still recognize the uppity hotel room. I was breathing deeply, and it only worsened.

Those weren't dreams. They were memories. Memories of the boy I loved, compared to memories of his cousin, the boy I'd moved on to. I looked up to see Jace wrapped in a towel at his rigid hips, so low it was tempting, which only reminded me of last night.

I slept with Jace. I didn't even give Will two months before I moved on to a new boy. "Clary, what's going on?" Jace said, crouching by my side. His hand touched my shoulder and I flinched. This was so wrong.

I finally put things together. Will killed himself, but I never knew why, not consciously. But my dream self knew. She knew that a girlfriend tipped his parents over the edge. They bullied and harassed him, stealing their love away. It was all because I had gone out with their son. I killed him. I wasn't enough. I didn't love him enough. And now I never would because I'd never be only his. I'd never be only Will's. I'd be his cousin's, too. I wasn't enough for Will. I didn't comfort him or support him enough. I wasn't enough for him, but I sure as hell wouldn't do this to his cousin, too.

I looked at Jace with wide eyes. My hands rose to rip the covers off me and they were shaking. I thought I'd throw up. Jace's hands cupped my face, trying to calm me down. But I shook away from him, sobbing. "Not enough," I muttered. I needed to get away from Jace, but it was so hard. He was so beautiful, soul and body, just like Will had been. I wasn't going to have his life on my hands either. "I'm not enough."

"Is this about your dream?" Jace asked. "Talk to me, Clary."

I looked at his golden eyes and knew I couldn't see those swimming at the bottom of the pool again. He wasn't used to the bullying and the prejudice to straights. I could hardly deal with it! Jace…Jace was strong, but I didn't dare risk it.

"Not again," I cringed as the words. "Will." I flinched as I shoved past Jace. "Jace." The memories from last night were my last memories with any boy I could ever begin to love. They'd haunt me: not because they were soothed my soul, but because they were filled with something like love. It was better than with Will. Jace was _there_ and didn't hold back anything – his actions, his love, his words. Nothing.

But it couldn't happen again. Not to a Herondale. Maybe some other boy could handle it. Maybe they couldn't. But I'd be willing to take that risk with anyone but with a Herondale. "Jace," I whispered his name one more wistful time. A tear fell from my cheek as I pulled on my dress. Heels in hand, I bolted for the door.

Jace followed me out, hot on my heel, but he didn't even know what to ask. That was best. He'd hate to hear my explanation. Jace thought he didn't deserve me. I let out a quiet sob at that, stumbling in my run. He deserved a girl who was strong enough to tackle the world by his side, who could be there enough for him. And I wasn't her. I wasn't strong. I was a weak girl who couldn't come out to her dads. I was a weak girl who didn't notice her best friend or her brother trying to tell her what defined them. I was a weak little girl, and he'd find somebody better.

I called a taxi, which pulled over with one look at my outfit. Jace had dropped his confusion and replaced it with anger. "You're a mute now?" He threw his hands up. I threw my heels inside but couldn't force myself to go in, not yet. Jace stood in front of the open door, eyes locked with fire on me. "Just say it, Clary. I need to hear it." I hated the look on his face. It was like he'd seen this coming, but he was so wrong. I knew he was wrong, and I didn't correct him. I was a bitch for doing so because he'd go the rest of his life thinking he wasn't enough when the problem was _me._

The dam broke loose on my eyes and water spilled down my cheeks in huge, terribly strong waves. I was knocked over and floored at the emotion in his voice, the way it cracked. "So sorry," I croaked and climbed inside the cab, slamming the door.

"Where to, miss?"

I took a shuddering breath and watched as he pulled out. Jace stood there in only a towel, making a huge crowd of people just staring at him. I held back a sob to speak. "Bus station."

I looked back again, but he was gone. Jace was gone.

* * *

 **A/N: So…who hates me here? Who saw this coming? Clary always has to mess up a good event, doesn't she? Let me hear your frustration. And how did you like the sex part? Let me tell you all something. Fan fiction authors _lie!_ I was expecting certain sexual activities to be easy or fast, but noooooo it is not! Not very experienced, but dang, such lies. **

**BTW: I love you all soooo much! You are all too sweet. Bonus of the breakup - I get to write more. I literally wrote nothing for the last two weeks we dated because I never felt like it so this is actually more preferred. Lol, am I control freak or what? Anyways, I really hope you all liked this chapter.**

 **Idk if I have answered these or not, but Simon and Izzy won't happen here. Sorry. I really never have liked Simon much at all. Whiny. You'll see just how much I dislike him sooner or later. And I try to update about twice a week, for those wondering, but I mainly do whenever you all meet my review requests bc I thrive on those! It's like my form of money. Hehe.**

 **Speaking of amazing, awesome, inspiring reviews, can we reach for eleven this time? I'm on the writing spur so ideas now are the best time for me to include them into the story! Leave me your love in eleven reviews, babes!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

 **Warning: Topics of gross detail/torture, and depression are touched on in this chapter...**

* * *

Simon answered his door within seconds. When he saw who it was, he hurried out of the house as his mom began yelling at him, at me, at his whole sexuality. I normally would have asked him about how things were going, but I was barely holding myself together enough to stand up. Simon saw my red eyes and disheveled hair. I wasn't still crying, but one word from me and I would be.

"What happened, Clary?" he asked in shock. I sagged my shoulders and leaned in for his outstretched arms when Elaine knocked furiously on the window. She threw it open seconds later.

"Get inside, _now_!" And we did as told, me stumbling along to Simon's hand. Inside, she was glaring at us by the door. "Do you know who can see you two? The entire damn neighborhood that's who!" She looked to me. "Even if you're gay, we can't let the entire fucking neighborhood rat on us more. Feminine divorced women have a straight son! Perfect, fucking perfect, Simon!"

So we went to the back yard where it was secluded in trees. Simon sat beside me on the hammock, but I couldn't find the words to speak. I didn't even know why I came here. All I knew was that I couldn't go home, not yet, not knowing what happened last night.

"Clary, are you okay?" Simon asked, taking my hand. I took a shuddering breath.

"No," I smiled at him. "But I will be. Things are right." I hated knowing how much I had to do what I did. Jace probably deserved an explanation, and I'd give him one eventually. But for now, I needed to mend my heart. Because sleeping with Jace meant more to me than my entire relationship with Will. It wasn't the sex. It was just Jace. I was scared that I could start to love him, and after only a month or so of knowing him.

"Are you sure?" Simon asked, not letting go of my hand. I frowned down at the intertwined fingers.

"I just didn't say some things I wish I had said," I shrugged, not telling him the least of it. Still, that bothered me, too.

Simon now took a deep breath and turned more towards me, still clutching at my hand. He gave it a squeeze and looked deeply into my eyes, deeper than I was ever used to with him. It scared me. I didn't know why he was acting so weird all of a sudden. "I'm glad you said that…because I have some things I need to say to you that I should have told you a long time ago."

I frowned. "What is it?" He and I had always been very open. Even when I was with Will, Simon was my go to man. He was my best friend. I supposed lately I hadn't been hanging out with him as much as I used to, mainly because Jace always had a bit better understanding of what I was struggling with, but I never expected he held back something from me. I was holding back something from him, but I'd tell him before I left today. I promised myself that much.

"Clary, ever since I could remember, you've been a part of my life," he began, and I nodded, encouraging him. His eyes looked to his wringing hands. "I've always known that I've loved you. I've always known that my life revolved around you. It's just…I never imagined that you would ever see _me_ in the same way I see you." Oh no. His eyes finally shifted back to mine and he squeezed my hand. "I know you were with Will, and I know you have looked to Jace. But Jace isn't me. Jace doesn't know what your favorite comics are, what your secret hiding spot is…he isn't your best friend." I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. Where the fuck did this come, Simon? "I'm in love with you, Clary."

Dear God… I blinked in shock. He never had shown an ounce of interest in me. It took me by surprise that he was straight, but even then I never considered him as a mate. Maybe that was my mistake. Maybe I faulted him there, but I didn't and I couldn't. He was Simon. He was the one I freaked out to. He was the one who I came to when I was bored, who could always make me laugh. He was my best friend, but he wasn't my boyfriend. I couldn't be serious with him for an hour. I couldn't look into his eyes and see his soul. I couldn't be that with him. I couldn't think of him like that.

"Simon -," I stopped myself, at a total loss of words. There was a reveling moment of silence, one that had my stomach churning. His eyes grew wide. 

"Oh." He said, eyes looking back to his feet. "Oh."

"No, Si, it's not -," How could I explain this to him? I could physically see his heart breaking. Even if I wanted to date him, I'd never put him through that. But I couldn't say that because he'd get his hopes up. What was I supposed to do? How could I show him I wasn't into him without ending our friendship? I loved him with all my heart. I couldn't imagine a life without him, but I couldn't imagine one where we made out. I cursed in my head. It had been too long. He was freaking out, eyes getting larger by the second. I choked and word vomit poured from my lips. "I slept with Jace, Si."

In an instant, his expression changed. Eyes narrowing, he took a step back, like he was the one to be offended. "You – you slept with Jace?" I swallowed the lump in my throat and jerked my head in a nod. "You slept with Jace Herondale."

"Yes! Simon, I slept with him." I ran a hand through my hair. "I-,"

"No," he shook his head. He looked at me like I stabbed him in the back. My eyes grew wide. His hands clenched into fists and he hit the wall, head leaning against it. "He's so bad for you, Clarissa, and you can't even see it," he growled through clenched teeth. I gasped, stumbling to catch my footing.

"I never knew, Simon. I still don't," I whispered, still in complete shock he'd use the name card on me. He _knew_ I hated that name. He _knew_ my father used it to get under my skin, just as Simon had done. He purposefully used it to hurt me. "You don't know him-,"

"I don't know him?" Simon turned on me with fury in his eyes. I gaped at him. "I don't know him? He's a player, Clary. He twists you into thinking you are special, that your life matters, but he'll never be there for you. He's just like fucking Will! Will used you!"

"No," I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. "Stop."

" _I_ listened to you cry over your dads! _I_ helped you hide the scars on your wrists! _I_ was there for you. Not Will. Not Jace. I was."

"Stop," I hissed, clenching my eyes shut as the tears fell. I couldn't hear this, not from him.

"Will fucked you. Will never had a real conversation with you. Why can't you see that? You've known Jace for a month! He's just like Will!"

" _Shut up!"_ I yelled, snapping my eyes open. I moved forward into his face, looking directly into his eyes. He seemed surprised by my fire. "Stay out of my business!" I shoved his shoulder as I stormed past him. I felt the hot tears mark my cheek and trudged on. After I slammed the front door on my way out, Simon opened it. He stood at the door, calling after me. My blood was boiling at this point. Simon had hurt me more than I ever could have feared. He badmouthed Will and Jace, two guys I was pretty sure I had fallen for. And he knew it, too. He knew how much Will had meant to me, yet he continued to call our relationship bullshit. He was wounded that I rejected him, and he wanted me to feel the same level of pain. I never thought my best friend would do that to me.

I turned around in the pouring rain. My hair was a wreck and all in my face. Looking back at Simon, I pushed past my anger. He _was_ my best friend. I needed him to come back to me. I shoved my red locks out of my little face to see him clearly. The rain did little to blur his image. "I love you, Simon Lewis. I always will, but can't that be enough? Can't you and I be family? Can't we be like we've always been, Si? I'll always love you. Just not like that."

And I ran home, my salty tears mixing with the rain that pelted my body like bullets. Simon yelled after me, "Yeah? Have fun dealing with Aline on your own!" I didn't know what he meant, but it didn't sit well. I sped up my pace. The rain only increased, but I was home quickly. I marched inside, slamming the door on accident, and I was about to dash downstairs, but two people blocked my way.

My dads were both looking at me with horrified expression. Valentine was angry, and Jo seemed like he was on the verge of tears. "Who died?" I muttered, stopping in my tracks. Valentine sighed deeply.

"Where were you last night?" Jo asked, hands trembling and voice shaking. I looked between them to see if this was some test.

"I told you. I went to Alin-,"

"Don't lie to me, Clarissa!" Valentine suddenly shouted. He stepped forward and slapped me across the face. I gasped and held my pulsing cheek.

"What are you talking about?" I breathed deeply, staring at Valentine with resentment.

"We called Aline this morning. You know what she said?" Jo continued without a pause. "She said she didn't know why Clary would be here. That she's…she's-,"

"You slept with that Will Herondale boy," Valentine seethed, his hand grabbing my wrist tightly. I cringed under his burning touch, so unlike Jace's warming one. My father gripped me tight enough to bruise my bone. "Tell us the truth. Are. You. Straight."

I felt the tears spill out of my eyes as his hands clenched me further. "Y-yes," I cried, pulling against his arm as I fell to my knees. His foot came in contact with my stomach next, and I doubled over coughing.

"You sure about that?" Valentine squatted by my head as I struggled to breathe. I wheezed and nodded my head. He kicked me again. "You disgust me, Clarissa. To think you are of my blood!"

I was down and hurt, but there wasn't much worse he could do to me. I was already going to end up like Jonathan, I assumed, so I figured really grinding at his bones wouldn't hurt. "I slept with Jace Herondale, too. And I might just tell the whole neighborhood that-," His fist collided with my jaw twice, and I fell to the floor, groaning. I rolled to my back and stared up at my dads with a curled lip. "Sure you want to do this to me? That's both your kids gone over something that means so little."

Jo sobbed, hands over his lips. He turned into Valentine and cried. "You are living your life as a sin! Clary, what you do is so wrong, so repugnant, how could it ever appeal to you?"

I closed my eyes and took shaking breaths. My body was so sore. I shrugged my shoulders as tears slipped out of my eyes, silent but deadly. Valentine spoke from so far above me. "Your brother is braver than you, stick. You will stay here with us, Clarissa. We've spoken to the school, and they've given us the leeway to treat you."

I coughed on air and jolted upright, eyes looking at him with terror. "There's nothing wrong with me-,"

 _Smack!_

"No backtalk!" Valentine spat. "We will pray God will forgive you of your sins, and I will make it my goal to bring you back to us from this infection."

"We loved you so much, Clary, and we will love you again," Jo whispered. I locked my jaw and spat on their shoots. My heart was being kicked and burned to ashes at their every word. I hated them for this, but I still needed their love and acceptance. In the back of my mind, I hoped this would work. I hoped I could be 'cured' even though it was no disease. It was not my conscious choice. But maybe they could change it back to normal. I just wanted to be normal. I lost Will; I lost Jace. I didn't see much more reason to fight to be straight anymore, if only it was so simple.

And then Valentine socked me in the face and my lights went out.

. . .

I woke up in the attic. Still groggy, I struggled to get up. My head was pounding and every breath I took sent a sharp pain through my chest. My rib was probably broken. Cursing, I sat up only to realize I had been sleeping on the ground.

It was musty up here and I began to cough, which hurt my body more. Looking around I felt my blood run cold. The last time I had ventured up to the basement, it had been filled with old furniture and clothes. Now it had been totally transformed. There was a chair with wires running all over it. Clamps were at the ankles, hands, and head. Light fixtures were behind it, ready to spark with energy.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to hold back my scream. Scrambling back to the steps, I saw something else. On a platter like it was food sat three different sized carving knives. My stomach dropped to my feet like it was going to hurl. Where was I?

The door creaked open and I gasped, scrambling back. My heart started beating faster as I peered down the steps, and it stopped completely when Valentine alone entered, locking the door. His eyes found me and frowned.

"Must we really lock you up? You should want this, Clarissa, a chance to be normal again," Valentine walked towards me. I scooted further back, but there was only so far I could go. "This _will_ work."

I trembled. He grabbed my wrists, pulling me into the chairs. Screams echoed from my mouth, but that didn't seem to faze him. I twisted my body in all sorts of ways in hopes to escape, but I knew there'd be no escaping. Valentine wasn't slow. He was stronger and faster than me. Still, I had to try. I had to delay the pain I knew that was about to drain me of life.

When I was fully latched into the chair, Valentine pulled up two computers. He started hooking things to my body, and a beeping sound started up. He was getting my heartbeat. Dread filled me from within, and I started squirming again. I couldn't lie through a heartbeat. But it also couldn't decipher the difference between fear and lust.

"Please, Father, no, I-I swear-," I stuttered, tears running down my eyes as he pulled up a search engine on the other computer. I didn't want this. I tried to brace my body for it, but it seemed like a never-ending period of anticipation.

"You swear what?" Valentine spat. "That you'll never sin again? We are going to make damn sure of that."

His hands were on the computer, searching fast for some video. I took deep breaths. How was I going to get out of this? I needed a plan. I couldn't just let him torture me for something that _wasn't my fault!_

The video loaded. "Here's what we do," Valentine growled in my ear. I whimpered. He was vicious. He hated me. He hated what I became. He wanted me dead and replaced with somebody who he thought he'd borne. "We play these and every time your heart rate spikes, we shock you."

He hit play. I tried to look away, to not focus on the images of the boy and girl rolling around on the bed. I tried to keep the fear down. I tried to keep my mind from replaying scenes of the night before with Jace, scenes that I wished would happen, scenes that I dreamed of happening. And my pulse went rapid because I couldn't. The sounds and the images were too familiar, too good.

Suddenly, energy went through me. My body shook and I couldn't move a muscle. It felt like somebody was trying to burn me. I lost all control of my body, only focusing on the pain. I couldn't even scream. Burning hair and flesh infiltrated my nose.

Then it stopped, and I was left with jitters running through me as the video played on. "Please turn it off," I begged, head hung low. His hands gripped my jaw and thrust upward, forcing me to look at the screen. I didn't want it to happen again, but I knew it would. And knowing that sped my heart up, and then it happened again.

It felt worse than the time before. It was longer. I felt paralyzed. I felt like my body was being sawn from some other foreign part with a large saw, and it was shaking my body everywhere. By the time he stopped, I was silently crying, refusing to sob in front of my father. He didn't let me rest as the video continued. "We?" I cried through my clenched teeth. "Where's Jo? Hmm?" Valentine stayed quiet. I jerked my body towards him, anger filling through me. "That's right. He's too _weak_ to torture his daughter. His family!"

And then another jolt went through me. It was more voltage; I could tell from the black spots that danced in my vision. After this shock, I lost all my energy. Another shock and I lost my anger. I just wanted this to be over with. Another shock and I felt the betrayal in my heart and mind. It wore me down and I started to sob. Why would they do this to their own family? There was no way I could wrap my heard around it. For the rest of the video, that's where I was. Shock after shock, and each one I felt my lonely, betrayed monsters grow stronger. Like hands, they pulled me down under.

But it wasn't away from the pain. It was into it.

. . .

I had trouble seeing past the hazy thick air. It felt like I was in a humid rainforest. I didn't know much about my surroundings or the time passing. I struggled to lift my own head so escaping had long since been ruled out.

I didn't want much more than the date. Fatigue and pain kept me stuck in this attic. Knowing how long I had been here wasn't much to ask for in my mind.

The only person I saw was Valentine. Day by day, hour-by-hour, we'd run through various lessons. There were some repeats and some that changed constantly. He got creative about it when it came to knives. I knew only that; Valentine was not trying to kill my body, but my soul couldn't be promised.

Early on I had worried about losing contact with Jace. There would be so many paranoid thoughts running through his head day in and day out. But after I had passed out eight times, which was my best guess at approximately four days, I didn't have the energy to overthink more than one topic.

It was so sad, too. I pushed Jace away when, at the time, it felt like the worse thing that could happen was that I'd lose the possible love of my life. I scoffed tiredly at that and collapsed back on the floor. My heart longed for my night in shining armor to come to my rescue. Believe you me, I had full intentions of escaping by myself, but that required gaining energy, which was virtually impossible with the constant 'therapy' and 'black dreams.'

I knew in my mind nobody would save me. Not a single friend of mine knew where to look for me. Besides, I didn't seem to want just a friend to save me; I wanted the golden devil. Some mornings when I'd wake with the birds chirping and rays of light filtering in through the small window, I could almost see Jace waking towards me with that knowing smirk on his face, like I had done something so wrong he could laugh at it. He would bend down to my level and tug at a strand of my billowing, tangled red hair. "What did you do to get in here, Red?" He would ask, using his bedroom eyes.

And I would cry, throwing my arms around him as I sobbed apologies. Yet I wasn't sorry. Even though I longed for his comforting arms just so I could cry and feel safe, there was little he could do to make me change my mind. I wouldn't lose Jace out of my selfish desires.

I sighed and heard the creak of the door. My body instantly jerked backwards, hiding with distance. It didn't matter when he got here, though. Valentine would go until I passed out. I clenched my eyes shut as my breathing increased. I never heard the click of a lock, though, and my curiosity got the best of me. My eyes peeled open to see my dad instead of my father.

I didn't know what to think. He wouldn't hit me, so my body relaxed a bit. Maybe they decided to give me a night off considering today was my disowned brother's birthday.

Jo sniffled when I wouldn't look into his eyes. I held my knees to my chest and stared past him out the window. He spoke, "I know this can't be easy on you, Clary." I didn't blink an eye or move an inch. He had some nerve coming up here, allowing my father to beat me for this. In his own special way, Jo hated straights just as much as Valentine. "But I miss you, Clare-bear."

I shuddered at the nickname he'd given me long ago. I would have much rather preferred Red now given the options. He reached to caress my face. Sneering, I tore my head away. He had the audacity to be surprised. He was honestly surprised I couldn't be touched by a man who condoned the abuse of my body for any reason, let alone one as meaningless as this.

"If jigs go to hell, you two will escort me on my way down," I said as my voice cracked from the lack of use. I truly wondered how long I had been put through this. Jo shed tears. "Did I hurt your feelings? Well, you hurt my body."

He sighed longingly. "We will love you again, Clary, I promise."

"On the condition that I be somebody who I'm not, correct?" Jo looked defeated for a bit, but not the kind that crushed a person's goals. He was defeated in the sense that he thought I was too foolish to understand his mindset, which he considered the factually correct mindset.

"You've had your dramatics. It's time to get over this attention-seeking phase before you ruin our family name," Jo stood, being oddly curt with me. Since I came home from New York, little about my dads surprised me anymore, but this one did. Then I realized this was the tone he had used when he spoke to Jace and Izzy the first day they arrived in he neighborhood.

It finally struck me, as he passed Valentine on the way out, that they really didn't think of me as their family anymore. I didn't matter to them in my 'condition.'

My father started up another episode of his jig porn. I didn't even try to hold back my racing heart. In all honesty, porn never usually got to me. The first time after Will and I had sex, I got my hands on an old videotape. It wasn't that great to me because I hated how pathetic the 'plot' of it was, if there even was some. It was that I could imagine Jace doing or saying half those things to me that got my heart beating.

And when Valentine pressed the blade against my arm and slashed harshly, I refused to cry because of that pain. Tears did fall, but it was because I knew I didn't have a family anymore. Nobody could ever want me if my family didn't. I was on my own, and it was scary as hell.

* * *

 **A/N: So this got deep pretty fast… what do you all think? WHO DO YOU WANT TO KILL!? (Not me pls?) So can we get 8 reviews!? Come on we can do it (I say even tho I don't participate...)!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

 **Warning: character death/attempted death ahead. You've been warned.**

* * *

"Shut up."

"I told her I loved her!"

"Shut. Up."

"Now she's not even coming to school!"

"Shut up, rat brain."

"Why isn't she answering any of us?"

"Shut-,"

"Simon, I would shut up," Isabelle interjected the two boys before Jace decided he had enough and tackled Simon. Izzy didn't know for sure what went down in New York, and she had screamed her head off when Jace arrived home without her dear friend, but he didn't even retort one word back to her. It made Izzy wonder what exactly happened. She had assumed they'd have sex, but maybe Clary felt pressured or Jace said he didn't want a relationship.

It would have been the Jace thing to do, but she knew he was crazy about Clary. It was the only topic of information that ever interested him. The look of adoration and concern in his eyes told it all.

Alec groaned. Ever since Jace snapped and clipped a guy at lunch who had made a jab at Clary's sudden disappearance being 'related to Jace's cum' Alec felt the need to restrain him.

"She missed her brother's birthday," Isabelle admitted. Jonathan had smiled but she could see the worry behind his eyes. He was always worrying about Clary. When Jace came home and nobody heard from Clary for three days, Jonathan and Jace got into a heated argument. Of course, Jon wasn't a super protective brother, but her wellbeing was a given.

"I don't care that you fucked her over and she hates you, Jace! You are finding my sister!" He had yelled after a week of no contact. Jace never gave much detail about what went down, but everyone in his house had gathered enough from his mood.

Jace had spent all evening waiting for her dads to go out of the house so he could look. She wasn't in her room, he finally decided, and her phone wasn't in her room either. Nobody knew what was going on.

"Maybe she went to live with her mom," Magnus suggested one evening when they stopped their practice. Izzy snorted.

"I could see that happening when I see our dads turning straight," Jon muttered, his head smothered under a pillow.

"That girl at our gig last night-," Jordan began. Izzy sent him a glare. He and Clary had never been as close as the rest of them save Sebastian because nobody was close with him. "I have a point, Iz!" Everyone sighed and looked at him except Sebastian, who was clicks away on his phone to his next hookup. "She said she saw Clary that night."

Isabelle almost forgot about her. Jace had walked on stage to take back the hat Magnus had stolen from him one day. He threw it back at him seeing the bedazzlement, muttering, "And heteros are the weird ones." After they were done, a mixed girl with hair that made Isabelle jealous came up to them. "Do you all know that guy who walked across stage?"

Jordan was the one who answered, a suspicious expression on his face. "Yeah, do you?"

"Yes, I met him at a club two weeks ago," she said, eyes looking around for somebody. Izzy was about to flip shit on that girl if Jace had done the classic Jace move and ditched his date for a cute girl. "He was with a cool redhead...Clary?"

"You know Clary?" Jordan asked. "Do you know wher-," Izzy clamped a hand over his mouth faster than lightning. She looped her arm through the girl's and pulled her back stage where it was quieter. Alec and Magnus had joined in by that point.

"You saw them that that night?" Isabelle asked. She nodded, unsure why she was getting the third degree.

"Tell us what happened between the two." Alec stated, hand going to her shoulder. The girl eyed it warily and shrugged it off, looking slightly annoyed.

"I just wanted to know where I can find Clary," she stated, looking between the siblings.

"So do we," Isabelle groaned silently in her head. Instead, she spoke coldly. "Tell us and we'll tell you her address."

Her glare grew darker, threatening in a grungy way, and Isabelle could tell she hadn't grown up with an easy life, but Iz didn't care. "Cut her some slack, guys," Jordan stepped between the girls pointedly. "Let's start with names. I'm Jordan. That's-,"

"I know," she lost some aggression as she almost chuckled. "I came here because I love your all's music. I know your names. I'm Maia."

"Good," Jordan smiled charmingly at her. Isabelle wanted to puke. She was decently sure Jordan was bisexual. He'd had boyfriends, but that boy was constantly looking at her butt. "Look, Clary and Jace aren't telling us why they aren't speaking. We need to know what happened that night."

Maia blushed a bit and snorted, relaxing as she spoke to Jordan. Ugh, she was straight too and was obviously affected by his good looks. "It looked like they were on a honeymoon with the way they looked at each other. Talk about bedroom eyes..." She trailed off when she was met with firm stares. "Look I saw the two dancing - well grinding to be exact - and ran into Clary later that night. We danced a bit. To draw Jace's attention, I made out with her. Boy they were practically orgasming with how fast they ran out of there. I highly doubt they didn't have sex that night."

So that was why Isabelle was decently sure they had sex and then Jace somehow managed to screw it up. She huffed and looked to Jordan. "Maia. Yeah. What about it."

"She said she went to her house and that Jace was _still_ snooping around her house." Jordan sighed. Alec narrowed his eyes at him.

"You've talked to Maia?" He asked, implying something else with a wink.

Blush crept onto his tan skin. "The point is Jace isn't handling Clary's absence well."

"Why the hell should he?" Jonathan groaned. "She never misses my birthday. Something is _wrong_."

"The school said she's away on personal matters," Alec huffed. Isabelle didn't know Alec was so close to Clary until she disappeared. He said he hated the way she made Jace act but Clary herself was 'cute.' "Bullshit."

"Whatever it is, my dads aren't concerned, which isn't good," Jonathan breathed out loudly.

"I'm worried about Simon, too," Isabelle said. "I know Clary didn't love him like that."

"He couldn't have really thought she was into him," Sebastian snorted from across the room. Everyone turned to him in surprise. He continued to prove his point. "Every guy I broke up with after a week said he saw it coming sooner or later. He _knows_ Clary isn't into him. So why did he get his fucking hopes up?"

"He's quite dumb when it comes to stuff outside of a textbook," Isabelle muttered.

"One must have hope to have anything," Magnus stated like the philosopher he could be. Izzy shoved him, and he dramatically fell onto Alec's lap where he stayed.

"Look I'd talk to him, but I don't want to lead him on. He looks like he's about to cry every time I see him." Iz looked pleadingly to Alec, the only one else who really knew him.

"Jace would kill me if I let Simon whine about Clary to me," Alex used his getaway swiftly.

Jonathan wrapped his hand around her waist. "He wouldn't stand a chance against me, Iz."

She knew that. If Jonathan didn't have a problem with it, maybe she would talk to him.

. . .

Isabelle couldn't do it anymore. She had been stuck inside the house all day since the first snow came. She wandered into Jonathan's room and flopped on the bed with a loud groan. "Iz?" Jon asked, moving from the chair to the bed. She moaned again. "Izzy."

"Jace is miserable, Jon," Isabelle turned her head to the side so she could look up at him. She always liked looking at him. When she entered she must have missed that he was shirtless. She sat up for a better view. "I don't know what to do."

"He acts like she's being raped," Jonathan murmured and looked worriedly at Isabelle. "You don't think he knows more than us, right?"

A week ago, Jonathan had gone insane. He walked right up to his old house and burst through the front door. After he checked his room thoroughly, Valentine came after him with a baseball bat. He threatened to call the police on him if he didn't leave. When Jonathan asked about Clary, he was only told that she was 'sent south with her grandparents to save her gay skin.' Nobody truly believed that, but that was all they had. Isabelle loved Clary to death and wanted her back desperately, but she also loved Jonathan, who was physically getting sick over her absence. So she had been doing her best to convince him that maybe they were telling the truth. To her relief, he was eating and practicing again, but he was yet to lose the permanent mark of concern in his eyes. Isabelle hadn't lost it either because deep down, nobody believed that story, not even her. But Jace wouldn't even consider believing she was relatively safe.

She hesitated for a few seconds. "No, he'd tell us if it mattered." Neither of them was convinced. "We should probably check on him." Jonathan nodded and stood, pulling Isabelle into his side as well. They made their way through the halls into Jace's room. He was sharpening a knife as they entered.

"Funny, I didn't hear a knock," he hissed. Isabelle sighed. He glanced up without a care and back down, continuing his previous endeavors.

"You know something about my sister," Jonathan decided. "You're sarcastic when you're hiding something." Isabelle was always surprised by Jonathan's intelligence. She never expected him to be so observing. It was a sweet bonus.

"Jace, that's his baby sister," Isabelle growled. She wasn't very sentimental, but she would do anything to get what she wanted. It unnerved her when somebody withheld valuable information, especially if it was out of pride.

Jace grimaced. "Let's not refer to her as that." Isabelle shared a look with Jonathan. By now she was convinced they had slept together.

"She could be pregnant and hiding it, Jace. It has been five weeks," Isabelle jabbed. The more they insulted him the easier it was to get the truth out. Meanwhile, Jonathan gagged at her side.

Jace barely spared her a glance. "We used a condom, Isabelle," Jace said without emotion. She raised her eyebrows and didn't know which way to poke this conversation. She would have loved the juicy details, but Jace would never give those up. He looked at them and groaned, standing to his feet. "Don't act surprised. You already knew."

"Condoms can break," Jon muttered like he was having trouble swallowing. "I'm fucking glad she finally got laid; she really needed it, but if you got her pregnant-,"

"I didn't impregnate her," Jace cut him off with an eye roll. "Leave."

"You know something." Jonathan growled. He took a step forward, getting in Jace's face. Isabelle watched with mild interest. "And you're going to tell it. Remember, I am her brother. When she gets back she'll listen to whatever the hell I say about you."

Jace flopped on his bed and gave him a cheesy smile. Isabelle was certain something was up by then. He acted like an ass a lot, but this was over the top. He did this shit when something was seriously bothering him. "Don't need to," he grinned. "She's decided to hate me on her own."

Isabelle didn't understand. "What are you talking about?"

He groaned. "Annoying pests," he muttered and reached for his phone. "The morning after she flipped out and left. Wasn't a huge surprise of course…" Jace shrugged. "Today she sent me this and won't reply." He held out his phone for them both to read and sat heavily on his bed, pinching the bridge between his nose. "I knew I didn't deserve her. She told me that, too, but this isn't Clary."

Isabelle read the text out loud. "Jace, you disgust me. You twisted me into doing unthinkable things. You should be in jail for what you did. I was vulnerable after a close death. You used me. I hope you are close with the devil because I won't be seeing you there. Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. I've had enough of you corrupt sticks."

Silence recaptured the room. Isabelle had trouble wrapping her mind around these words. Jace was right. She couldn't even hold it in her heart to be offended. Even if Clary loathed Jace she would never begin to think these things.

"You bastard!" Jonathan growled, hands shaking with rage. Isabelle looked at him with wide eyes. "You practically raped my sister!"

"Whoa, calm down, buddy," Jace stood with a surprising smirk on his lips. "She didn't have to do _anything_. She didn't even have to go clubbing with me. Clary wanted it."

"You mean she wanted you," he sounded repulsed.

Jonathan looked like he was ready to clobber Jace. Isabelle stepped between the two. "Jon, he's right. Clary didn't send this. I checked her papers for school too often to know she _never_ gets the correct form of 'there.' She didn't write this."

Jon looked at her suspiciously and grabbed the phone, reading it over again. He looked at Jace hesitantly and sighed. "Right. My bad." Jace shrugged. "Our dads are the only ones who have ever used the term 'stick' for heterosexuals, too. Clary looked appalled when they did."

"Your dads have her phone," Isabelle muttered. "They're covering up for her disappearance."

"They know about us." Jace groaned. "They know she's straight. Why hasn't she been kicked out like Jonny-boy?"

"Don't call me that," Jonathan said quickly and took some time to think. He seemed the most confused of them all. "They always liked her more, but..." Isabelle could sense his grief at the fact that Clary was clearly favored. She wrapped her hands around her bicep and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Come on, Jonathan. Think about Clary's wellbeing for now," she whispered. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Jace rolled his eyes and mutter a smart remark under his breath.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "I have no idea. They wouldn't want both of their kids straight - a disgrace to their family..." Jonathan trailed off. Isabelle got a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her eyes connected with Jace. His face was as pale as the walls and he was rigid. She knew he was thinking the same thing as her, but Jonathan lacked the knowledge of humanity's cruelty.

"She's in therapy."

. . .

Simon's hand was shaking by the time he was finished. It had been almost two months. Clary hadn't come in contact with anyone. Simon knew it was his fault. He pushed the love of his life away. Nobody knew him like she did. Nobody was there for him like she was. He needed her now more than ever, and he screwed it up.

He hated jigs. He hated the idea of being with the opposite sex. He hated the idea unless it was Clary. Clary was the only girl he had ever thought about in that way multiple times. Even with somebody like Izzy around, she was the only one on his mind.

He was more alone now than ever. Originally, he could have stood a chance at facing being the being he hated so much with Clary by his side. But without her positive mindset, Simon had slowly begun to hate himself, too. His family wouldn't speak to him. His best friend wouldn't speak to anyone but especially him. His newfound friends were too worried about Clary to see Simon crumpling under his mom's abandonment, his love's rejection, and the horrible notion of being the sexuality that he had grown up seeing as repulsive.

He knew they would be more concerned for Clary. He was, too, but he felt her disappearance both ways. Simon needed her and she was off on some joy trip.

There was too much going on for him to take it any longer. There was no world he wanted to be in without Clary. Even if she came back they'd never be the same.

He didn't want to love her. He didn't want to think of her like that. He didn't want to think of girls at all. His own thoughts were sinful.

He was done.

So he mailed the letter, skirting away from his mom, not like she would ask him anything. He felt her eyes scorning him as he walked upstairs. Knowing his plans, he wanted to say something to her, one last thing to ease her heart about his decision, but he couldn't find it in himself. She was a big reason as to why he chose to buy this rope sitting in his bed.

So he closed his door and locked it. He didn't want the world knowing how weak he was. Simon didn't want to be straight anymore. He didn't want the whispers, the bullying, the lifestyle, the thoughts, or anything that had to do with being straight. Liking girls kicked him out on a limb all on his own with nobody for support, and Simon had to jump incase the branch never snapped and only put him through agonizing anticipation.

He grabbed the rope in hand and walked to the closet, working on a particular kind of knot.

. . .

I took deep, steadying breaths. It was so far down. It was so far up. If anything, my mind became clearer. They were yelling for me not to do it. They were yelling for me to think of the life I could have.

All I heard was the yelling.

. . .

Hours Earlier

Valentine walked into the attic with a girl I never expected to see at my house. I wanted outside contact, but I couldn't force myself to be happy. Still, it had been too long since I saw somebody other than my dads, other than the two who hated me.

It had to have been months by now. Aline confirmed my suspicion when she walked in with white snowflakes still resting upon her black hair. She tried to hide the horror on her face when she stood before me. "What is this?" Aline asked in shock. Valentine looked impassive.

"This is a family matter, Aline." He said briskly. "Clarissa, Aline has offered to provide her services to track your progress."

"Ser-services?" I croaked, too weak to lift my head higher from the floor to really get a look at their faces.

"Aline, report back to me after this. Thank you, sweetheart," he said and walked down the stairs. Aline stayed quiet for a good five minutes. I didn't know what to say. I didn't have the energy to say much either way. I got to my hands and knees so I could lean against the wall. Aline was paler than normal. Her eyes looked like they saw a ghost.

"Th-they said you were being helped..." She muttered softly. Her wide eyes looked around the room suddenly and she backed up to the post before the stairs. "What are they doing to you, Clary?"

I felt a wave of familiarity when she said my name. I hadn't heard it in so long. Ignoring her question, I decided to use my time for the important matters. "Was it the first snow?" I whispered. Looking horrified at my question, she nodded. I smiled. "I love the first snow. Nothing stays but the air is so...lovely."

"Clary," Aline warned. She crouched in front of me, eyes analyzing. "We need to get you help."

My smile faded. "There's no helping me, Aline. You'll see."

"See?" Aline gasped. "I am not going to - rape you or something!" My eyebrows rose at her alarmed tone and I sighed back into the wall.

"Then I suppose you won't see," I shrugged. "My father did arrange this, however?"

Aline's eyes were glistening with tears. "Yes."

"And you agreed?"

"No," she hissed with venom at my accusation. "I would never." I kept staring at her. The wave of betrayal hadn't yet hit me. I hoped that she was gone when it did. Something like this was unforgivable, and I knew that before it took affect. "Even people who hate what you are want to know what the hell happened to you."

I laughed. It was too funny. I kept laughing, my head rolling to the side because I couldn't hold it up and keep laughing. The people who hated me were concerned? Ha! My own friends, brother, and lover clearly weren't concerned enough to find me, but jig-haters were! The irony didn't skip my notice, and I had trouble controlling my laughter. My heart cried alongside my mouth. I wasn't just giggling, either, but soon my cackling changed into sobs. My brother forgot about me. My friends didn't care. Jace wasn't even worried.

I felt my heart stop and restart because they all broke it. I was fully, completely broken.

"Clary," Aline chastised, concern mixed with fear leaked from her voice. She stood there. She watched me cry. I hadn't cried in weeks. I thought it was getting better because I wasn't crying. Now it was like the floodgates were released. And I couldn't stop. I wanted to. I hated crying. This crying didn't make me feel any better. This crying hurt me more because I knew - I knew just how much their betrayal hurt me.

I didn't notice when she left. She said she had to talk to somebody. My convulsions tuned her out. She ran down the stairs and flung the door open. To my surprise, nobody shut it. The doorway was open, but did I want to come out? Did I want to escape into a world that didn't accept me? Did I want to go to my friends and brother and act like nothing was wrong?

They didn't care! They didn't care about what my dads did to me. I pushed Jace away, but I didn't push them away. Simon, Alec, Isabelle, Jordan, Magnus, Jace...Jonathan. My dads sent somebody to rape me! My friends stood by, oblivious to whatever tortures were thrusting upon me.

I was alone. And I wanted to stay alone. But in this world a girl like me never got that option.

I didn't know where I was running. Tears wouldn't stop streaming from my eyes. I ran out the door and down the stairs. My dads were in the kitchen. "-should have played football!"

A sob coughed up my throat. Their heads turned, but I was out the door before they even said a word. My feet ran towards the building I had associated with both healing and tragedy.

In my mind, I was screaming at myself to stop. My mouth was, too, apparently loud and proud. What I said escaped me, but it had enough effect on the boys outside to make them look. I caught glimpses of their faces. Alec. Magnus.

I cried out in pain. Pain from seeing their faces with masks of concern, but they didn't care. They didn't look for me. They didn't do anything to help me. I was held for months being tortured. I was so alone! I would always be alone!

I was in the elevator and closed it before anyone else. Pressing a button, I rose to the highest floor it would take me - 6. I had to get away from them. I stuck a chair in between the doors to keep them from closing. I didn't want anyone to save me. I didn't want anyone to touch me again. They left me once, but I didn't want them to stop me from leaving them permanently. There were no stairs to the highest floor. Nobody could reach me if they wanted to.

I was in an attic of some sorts, I realized with a start. It couldn't have been their only one because I saw a set of stairs that led upward. There was no need for those, however. I hated heights and there was no need to put more delay in my decision. This room piqued my interest as well. It was musty and dark. Old furniture was covered in white cloths. A set of books was along the wall, piled as high as my head. An old chest stood out to me. It was below a window that was barely the size of my body. The chest was hard against my feet as I stood wobbly yet not uncertain. I pushed the window open.

And it was so high. Below me was the slanting of the roof. Above the window on the outside was a gargoyle. I grabbed onto that and stood, my feet on the windowsill.

I took deep, steadying breaths. It was so far down. It was so far up. If anything, my mind became clearer. They were yelling for me not to do it. They were yelling for me to think of the life I could have.

All I heard was the yelling.

I could see everyone below me clearly. They were six stories down, possibly less. My dads' voices stood out, or maybe it was their words.

"Clary, don't do it! I promise we will love you!" Valentine yelled. He used my name: my real name in my mind. I spat down at him with venom, though he didn't notice.

"You can do this, Clary. You can have the perfect gay life. You can be happy," Jo cried. My tears came faster.

"You will love me if I am gay?" I sobbed, my voice echoing among the houses. People were gathering nearby, but nobody dared step on the lawn of the Lightwoods'. They were concerned but not enough to near heteros.

"Yes!" Jo shouted like he had finally got through to me. "Our love will be never ending. Just...choose the right life."

My hands were shaking. I didn't want this. I didn't want to live with family whose love was conditional. I shook my head as my sobs worsened. Death would be so much better than this. My family hated me. This world hated me. My friends forgot me.

"Not good enough," I growled low with vigor in my eyes. I was done. I was done being beaten for what made me happy.

"Why would you say that to a girl on a ledge?" I heard Alec cursing. He looked up to me. "Clary, you aren't by yourself in this. We are here for you, please, just get down from the window."

"We love you _now_ , Clary!" Magnus yelled, clinging on to Alec in fear. Alec stared at me with an intense gaze. My mind believed them but my heart had been put through too much to hear the sincerity in his words. I didn't believe him. I couldn't.

Then people started piling out of the house. Maryse, Robert, Max, Isabelle, and my brother all came running. I'd never forget Jonathan's face. It was full of guilt and absolute terror.

"Clary!"

"L-leave me alone, Jon!" I shouted. I tried to pull the strength in me to let go. My hands hurt. My body hurt. I was getting lightheaded. I hadn't been standing this long in months.

"Stop drawing attention to yourself and get down. Right. Now." Valentine yelled. I fell forward with a sob, my feet slipping but my hands holding firm to the stone. I wanted so much to let go. I was going to. I would, but I needed to not go with them all screaming at me!

"Don't do this, Clary!" Jonathan pleaded. His voice was clogged with emotion. I shook my head, blinking harshly. I hated heights. What a horrible yet daring way to go. Facing my fears in my last moments. "Don't do this to me if anything! I can't function without your smile, your bundle of energy."

I cried even harder. He was doing just fine in the months of my torture, right? I shook my head and let go of one hand. I closed my eyes. I needed to forget the world and the people. My body breathed in and braced itself for the fall.

"Clary!" Max's voice cried. My eyes fluttered open out of instinct. He was holding a book. It was the one we had just started before I left with Jace. We needed to finish it. I hated that we never would, but it couldn't happen. I couldn't ignore the world like his innocent soul did. I couldn't.

"Jace hurry!" Max yelled as I let go of my other hand, balancing solely on the windowsill. At the mention of his name, my eyes shot open and my hands clung back to the stone. I looked down, my tears pausing for a moment of confusion.

Below me, scaling the wall and windows, was the golden angel. He was only one story below me. My right hand let go. I was running out of time. I needed to hurry. My left hand let go again.

But my head looked down at Jace. He was angry, I noticed oddly, and he was _fast_. My eyes were going everywhere. Jonathan was speaking again. "I love you, Clare. Nothing will ever change that!"

My eyes kept going back to Jace. I couldn't help but see my body as it crumpled over in pain at seeing Will's body in the pool. I remembered the funeral. I remembered that night - or rather the lack of memories. I remembered the shots of tequila. Most of all, I remembered how I thought it was my fault - how it _was_ my fault. The guilt still hadn't left me.

And I couldn't put that on to Jace.

My hands tightened around the stone, and I stopped crying. I looked from the ground to Jace. I couldn't believe it. There were tears glistening in his eyes. "Jace," I whispered. Everyone was silent. Even Jonathan stopped speaking.

Then Jace reached me. He was hanging by the windowsill, but there wasn't a way to go any higher. "Please, Clary, don't leave me."

I couldn't. I couldn't leave him to think he was to blame, to think he wasn't enough. I stepped back inside, and the gasps were audible even up here. Jace pulled his body inside, and I stood waiting for him. He looked at me with open eyes. And I fell to pieces.

Jace ran to me, and his arms wrapped around my body as I cried. His hands were on my back and my hair, holding me. "Shh, it's okay. I found you. I have you."

I didn't know if he was speaking to me or to himself. But I couldn't stop the tears. They seemed endless. Jace didn't complain. In fact, he was completely relieved. "I-I couldn't do it," I stuttered, trying to gain control over my body. "Not to you."

"Why?" Jace whispered. My body trembled at the thought of doing so. He lifted me off the ground and into his arms. His chest muffled my cries. "Why would you do that, baby?"

I whimpered. "My dads t-tortured me for months, Jace. To-today they arranged f-for Aline to 'see my progress.'" His whole body tensed and he paused in his step. "And I thought you guys didn't care-."

"I've always cared, Red," Jace breathed. He neared the elevator and kicked out the chair. The doors slid shut and the machine started moaning as the metal crashed against metal.

He sat on the floor, me still in his lap. We were quiet for a minute, only speaking through our eyes. My tears were silent. "You never rescued me, Jace."

"I-,"

He wanted to speak, but I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to hear his excuses. I didn't want to know why he didn't come when my dads were working. I couldn't handle it. And luck was surprisingly with me.

The elevator doors slid open and revealed everybody squished inside. My dads escaped first. Valentine tore me away from Jace. "Look what you jigs have done," my father growled. I wanted to protest, but I was out of energy and options.

"She never should have been exposed to such radicals," Jo murmured. His hand gripped mine and I shuddered. My eyes were tired.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. I couldn't force this pain on Jace, but it didn't mean I had to bear it anymore. "I don't like guys anymore, Dad, I promise…Can I go home now?" I could get their love, I supposed, and that's all that really matter. I was, technically, loved.

He nodded with a bright smile and kissed my forehead. I felt the icy touch long after his lips left me. As we entered the elevator, my eyes connected with Jonathan's, which were laced with agony. He mouthed "sorry" and turned away. I nodded briefly just as my eyes closed and sleep took me.

* * *

 **A/N: Sooooo I'm not sure if this will get me off of your alls' hit lists or not…does it? That was some dark shit, darkest I've ever written. But hurrah bc I'm a chapter away from finishing the story. There should be a total of sixteen chapters. I think. Maybe there's seventeen.**

 **Anywaysssss…let me just say you guys have some of the best usernames! Sometimes I'll just sit and laugh at their punnyness. So for this chapter let's get at least NINE reviews, and of the reviewers I'm going to announce my top two fav usernames. I'M PICKING THE TOP TWO FAV USERNAMES SO REVIEW IF YOU WANT IN ON THIS. If ya got a story, I'll prob check it out, too. So who has the funniest username…go!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

* * *

"You're joking," Isabelle deadpanned. I shrugged and sipped on my coffee. My hands shook from the jitteriness of it, and I forgot Simon normally got me decaf. I sighed and looked around for him, diverting Isabelle's attention momentarily. "He didn't come to school yesterday, either. Must be sick."

Simon was always one to nurse a cold for days at a time. She grabbed my arm suddenly, causing my coffee to slosh on my hand. I cringed as the hot liquid entered one of the open wounds, and her eyes lit up with fire. "Clary, you can't be serious about this. Being gay or straight isn't a conscious choice, if it's one at all!" I stayed silent.

"Is that why he won't talk to me?" I sighed. She was looking across the highway as a hot black car sped into the lot. Isabelle followed my gaze to Jace as he got out of the car with Alec on his side. For once, they wore similar expressions. Jace wasn't smirking or angry. He wasn't anything, just like Alec appeared at school. I knew better; he was almost smiling around Magnus. But Jace looked like nothing, which said _something_ for him. I just didn't know what.

"You said you aren't straight, Clary," Isabelle laughed briefly. "He won't talk to you because this _isn't_ you." I opened my mouth to protest as Isabelle and I made our way towards the school. She held up a pampered nail. "Lucky for you, I have vowed to be your friend no matter what. If this is how you have to cope, then this is how you have to cope." She shrugged. "Just don't ogle me, please. I can only handle one Morgenstern at a time."

Despite my bitter mood, I threw my head back in laughter and clutched my coffee tighter. "You're funny, Iz, you're funny."

. . .

I got home on time. Jo was waiting for me. "Don't you have a job?" I asked as I set my backpack on the table to start my homework. This was how it had been the past two days. It was how it would be for the rest of the year I guessed. Jo sat across from me, smiling too wide. He was analyzing me, I realized.

"I quit two months ago," he said, purposefully leaving out _why_ he quit around the time they locked me up and tortured me. I shuddered. It had only been four days of freedom. My body ached. It was still healing. I didn't even try to sleep anymore. My body didn't feel it needed it, and my mind knew what would come if I did.

I made my way to the coffee maker without saying another word and poured me a cup. "How was school?"

I said curtly, "Fine."

"Did-,"

"I think I'll finish my work in my room," I said. I couldn't stand the small talk he pushed for. He thought everything could be fine now that I announced my gayness. He thought I could forget all the pain they inflicted upon me. And that just didn't settle well on my stomach.

Forgetting my work, I let my mind wander as I sat in the windowsill. My house was small compared to the mansion across from it. The street was narrow enough that I could easily wave to the people playing in the yard, if I wanted to, which I didn't. Jonathan was probably the most heartbroken. I didn't think about Jace in this concept because I never did get a feel for how deep his feelings for me were. All I knew was that after two months of not being around him, I desperately ached for his blinding smile.

But Jonathan was different. Jace was saddened by my decision, but Jon was angry. He thought I was conforming to the wickedness of the world, of our dads. He hated what I did. He hated it. I could tell by the way that he made eye contact with me and frowning, walking inside and leaving Isabelle to bask in the sun by herself. She looked in the direction he had been and made a sad face. I sighed and closed the blinds.

Hours later, my homework still wasn't done. I couldn't get my brain to think outside of the pounding subjects. Jace was a too common one, a fact that I loathed.

I knew I wasn't gay. I probably never would be. The only thing the 'therapy' did was give me PTSD. It was already decided I would end my live as a celibate. I couldn't force myself to marry somebody I didn't love, and I couldn't bring my fathers' rage on me again. I needed somebody in my life, and they were the most assured ones. I couldn't count on the band that would be moving west or Jace, who was so unpredictable I couldn't begin to imagine where he'd be. But if I had decided to go against my fathers' wishes and have sex with a boy again, I'd imagine it would be more than unpleasant. The 'therapy' lessons, images, and feelings would never leave my mind. I hated it. I wish there was some way to vacate them, and there had to be. Jace didn't flinch when we had sex. He moved on. He knew a way, but he would never be willing to speak to me again, so the point was moot.

When Jo called for dinner, I stumbled down stairs with a sigh. Valentine and him had a conversation as normal. Their eyes constantly flickered to me, watching me, but I was too tired to care anymore.

"Clary, how is the make up work coming along?" Valentine demanded my attention. I looked at him briefly and shrugged. "I hope it's not too much."

"Did your English teacher say if you wrote a ten page essay she'd call it even?" Jo asked. I nodded my head and looked into Valentine's eyes, hoping he could feel my pain. My green eyes were bloodshot by this point, and they held most of my torture. After four days, a lot of the physical injuries were healing. But my eyes were hurt so deep I wondered if they'd ever heal.

"My math teacher is letting me study on my own and take the three tests before the end of the semester. My art teacher wants five large projects." I would never finish those. I could hardly hold a pencil in my hand without shaking let alone a brush. I hadn't looked in the direction of my sketchbook since I was free.

"Well…get them done, Clarissa," Valentine said as he chewed on green beans. I flinched. He'd used that name too many times for it not to bring back memories. My stomach churned, and I shoved roughly away from the table.

"May I be excused?" I asked.

Jo frowned in concern. "You've barely touched your chicken."

I felt sick. "I'm full." And I really was. I knew this was less than half what I used to eat, but I couldn't force more food down my throat. My eyes shifted to my hands. It was then that I realized just how bony they were. When Isabelle and I grabbed our coffees this morning, I knew something looked off. Our hands had been right beside each other, and something didn't look very proportional. Now I knew it was because I was skin and bones.

"Very well," Valentine grumbled abruptly. He wiped at his mouth. "Clean the attic's floor after you get some work done, Clarissa. It's filthy." I was too shell-shocked to move for a minute. He looked at me like I was wondering why the leaves on the tree were green. "Well?"

My feet deftly started to move. My mind had trouble wrapping around my task. I was ordered to clean the very floors on which I was tortured, a fact that was _not_ in any way my fault. It was ridiculing and a form of extra punishment in its own way. On my way to the attic, I could feel my stomach truly jumping. As soon as I got up there and saw all the blood coating the wood in piles, I couldn't hold back the vomit. It rose up out of my mouth, wracking my body with shudders and horrible shaking.

I breathed deeply, hunched over the dusty trashcan and waited for food to come up. When it didn't, I sunk to the floor in exhaustion, a position that wasn't unfamiliar for me in this musty space. My eyes looking over the entire room, memorizing every aspect and inch of it like they did for the past two months, it was the first time I ever wondered.

I wondered why the hell I was back here.

. . .

Jace peeked his head around the corner. The immense rows of shelves truly didn't help his search. He sighed and sat down, hands roaming through his hair. He doubted anything have to do with Will would be here. It was his only place to go to, however.

Footsteps were approaching, in the thought they were forgotten in his mind. He stood up in waiting, only to see Alec slide around the shelf with a curious expression. "Always on your toes, Jace," he muttered, looking around at the books. Jace cleared his throat, unmoving. He preferred for his business to be kept under the radar. Not that Alec was terrible at secrets, but Jace worried about Magnus' capabilities. He swore than man could read his crush like a book.

"Family journals?" Alec frowned, picking up a random leather-bound book and flipping through it. He chuckled. "What are you doing?" Jace shrugged, owning his natural stance of defense. "Does this have to do with Will?"

"No, I actually find a thrill in reading through deceased family matters, Alec; it gives me a sense of purpose." Jace folded his hands over his heart with a fake smile. Alec breathed and looked up at Jace. They stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds more before Alec caved.

"If it is Will's you want, you won't find it here. Magnus says they haven't given it back to the family yet," Alec sifted through the book once more before setting it back in its place. "Why do you want it, Jace?"

"I told-,"

"Be serious and I may get it for you," Alec narrowed his eyes at him. Jace held back a snarky comment, debating. "Is this about Clary?"

"Isn't everything about her, brother?" Jace smiled, once again lacking any happiness.

"Come on then," he said after a brief pause. "Magnus was Wil''s medical examiner. He will have read it. He can give you a summary." Alec emphasized the last words. Jace snorted. He didn't want a summary at all. He wanted to read and interpret it himself. However, he didn't have many other options.

They found Magnus talking to Max about which shirt to wear. He was going over to a girl's house. It was the first they ever heard of Max showing any interest in anyone. His parents were doing their best not to push him to either sexuality, as they had done with Alec and Isabelle. But everyone had his or her bets. Jace snorted at the sparkling shirt he held up. "Dude, don't listen to Magnus. Grab the shirt with your favorite action figure on it or something." Max narrowed his eyes and ran upstairs.

"What's with Mr. Bitter?" Magnus sighed in annoyance. He crossed his hands over his chest and glared. Jace smiled coldly and leaned against the kitchen counter.

"What do you know about Will Herondale's journal?" Alec coughed, looking between the brooding boy and the cocky adult. Jace picked at his fingers while secretly refusing to look at Magnus, but he was interested, very interested.

Magnus huffed indignantly. "I'm not supposed to tell family this unless it's been cleared by his moms."

Jace snapped his head up. He strode into his face faster than any of the boys could blink. There was a ferocious fire behind those golden orbs that fueled the brilliance of his eyes. "Does it look like I'll shout to the world why he killed himself?"

Alec grabbed his arm. "It's not Jace who really needs it. It's Clary," he said, catching Magnus' gaze. The two seemed to have a silent conversation without Jace, who felt like he was watching an old person try to get up the stairs without help. He looked away and waited. Finally, he gave.

"Look, I examined his body mostly," Magnus stepped back so Jace would hear. "But I did glance at it before storing it in the evidence file. A few lines stood out. 'It's too much-' or maybe it was 'she's too much.' 'We're alone and separated. We cannot be.' 'The love of my life will never be _mine_ **.'** And lastly, 'She might move on, but I can't. I won't. She will be the last thing on-' on his mind or something." Magnus shrugged and looked sadly at Jace.

Jace had a look of puzzlement on his face. He took a deep breath in through his nose and out. Alec frowned. "Was this what you were looking for? Did it help to know that he loved Clary, too? Enough to kill himself?" Jace still didn't answer. He pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes in concentration. "Maybe she's doing you a solid, Herondale. She's dangerous. She's no good."

"Lighten up, Alexander," Magnus chastised. "He's mending a broken heart."

"Oh what, for the girl he slept with once?" Alec laughed. "He's once went a week straight of bringing home new girls from clubs, Magnus. What makes her so different?"

"She's dangerous," Magnus leaned in to whisper directly into his ear. "She's no good, Alexander. _That_ is what makes her different."

Jace's eyes suddenly snapped open. "They were never separated…"

"Did Will not ever talk to his own cousin?" Magnus asked Alec as Jace paced the floor in front of them. They both knew that look. He was piecing something together.

Alec shook his head. "No. We never talked to him on the phone, in person, or even texted him. None of us even met him until we were in high school at a holiday dinner. Only Jace and him talked longer than five minutes."

Jace stopped and growled as his hands clenched. "Will never even said her name, did she Magnus?" He shook his head, eyeing him dangerously to try to see his angle. He clenched his jaw. "Will Herondale, always the player…" His eyes were wild as he looked at Magnus, pleading and almost animalistic. It was a look known to Jace and often got him exactly what he needed in the most desperate times.

"I need that damn journal, Magnus."

* * *

 **A/N: Ah this was so short! I'm sorry, loves, but I was getting so off of my schedule. Anyways, this was more of a filler, but also not. That little tid bit at the end was important. I am sorry it was in a confusing 3** **rd** **person. I love writing in third person, but not when the rest of the story is in first. So I just did my best to be equal between Alec and Jace. I will make the next chapter come sooner to make up for the shortness!**

 **What's in the journal? What role does Will play in this all? i know some of you are like 'WHY IS SHE BACK WITH HER TORTURERS?' I get your confusion. I'm no doctor, but I do know that a kid's minds messed up after this kind of stuff. Imagine being oppressed for your whole life, longing for the true love your family should give you, longing for the love they only give a, in this case, homosexual. She wants their love so badly, and she's just tired of fighting. Two months.**

 **THe worst thing is that these stuff used to happen to homosexuals. Some psychiatric hospitals even offered it! I pray no more cases in the USA appear, but there used to be. It's sickening.**

 **Also, there may have been technical difficulties. Idk. I didn't get the email notifying me that a new chapter was up until long after so I'm not sure if you all got it too. So I'm postponing the little challenge. Most creative usernames in the reviews go! Also, love the reviews so much!**

 **WE ARE ALMOST AS 100! LET'S HIT IT GUYS, FULL FORCE. CAN I GET TEN REVIEWS? COME ON LET'S GET 100!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

* * *

I looked at Isabelle for the twentieth time this week. It was Friday and nobody had heard from Simon. "Something's wrong. He's never missed school before. He came with the flu before," I insisted. She sighed and looked at Jonathan.

He rolled his eyes. "Clary, I love the guy, but we barely get any time to spend together. He's fine," Jon insisted. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared.

"You probably thought that about me for two months, yeah?" It was the first time anyone had ever mentioned my two months away aside from Isabelle. Jace's head even snapped around to look at me. We were in the living room watching a horror movie, but we had all seen it before. I was there to hang out with Jonathan, but tensions were too high between us still that only movies were cleared ground. Isabelle said she was there to be with me, but I knew she just couldn't separate from Jonathan's side for long. I didn't mind. It just worried me that they were _so_ close. Max was there to hang out with me, too. Ever since my climb, Max veered from my side very little when I came around. He was adamant about doing things with me that 'made Clary smile.' It touched my heart more than I let on.

But there was no reason why Jace was there. He never spoke or had any input in the conversations. When he was asked, he answered curtly and didn't look anywhere near me. I could still feel his eyes on me the other ninety percent, studying my body language for something I didn't understand.

The room was dead silent. Only the screams filled the air from the movie, and even that was diluted by the shear awkwardness. Max's hand found mine. "We were all worried about you, Clary." He got on his knees and whispered in my ear. "I think Jace even cried."

A loud snort came from the loveseat Jace had overtaken for just himself.

I hugged Max briefly and looked to Isabelle. "You can feel it, too."

She opened her mouth to protest until she finally sighed and nodded. "He wouldn't do this. He was worried about you, too. He should have called you when he heard you were back on your feet." She climbed to her feet, as did I.

"Where are you going?" Jonathan asked. He looked personally insulted. I looked to Izzy, telling her it was her turn to talk to Jon. She nodded and I moved to the door to put my shoes on. I heard her ask if anyone else wanted to come along, and I also heard how Alec the silly excuse that he had a rash and lymph nodes, indicating a 'serious sickness, Isabelle.' I snorted and stood, opening the door. Just as I was about to sneak outside, a hand grabbed my wrist. I knew that hand anywhere.

Jace was looking at me intently. His mouth was opened, ready to say something. I straightened myself and waited. There was so much I wanted to say to him, too, but I couldn't unless he said something. I needed him to say something. There had to be an indication that he didn't hate me. I wanted Jace in my life, but I didn't know if he would want me in his as anything other than a girlfriend. Even having him in my life at all would be daring. Hell, visiting my own brother was dangerous. Everything I did these days felt like so little but was also so risky.

"Cl-,"

"Nope," Isabelle swooped between us and snagged my hand back. She opened the door and pulled me through. My eyes searched for Jace, as he did for me, but Isabelle cut that off. "We just got her back, Jace. Don't do this." She slammed the door in his face and started our little walk.

When I got my mind clear, I sputtered, "Do what? What was he about to do, Izzy?"

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Nothing that would help you, that's all I know." I wanted to question her further, but she was right. It wouldn't help me. I was gay. Or I at least would never act upon any straight acts. Having Jace as a temptation would only make it more impossible. Jace and I were probably better left as distant acquaintances.

We climbed in her car with Isabelle driving. I ducked my head down when we drove past my house, but the ride was short all around. There was something odd in the way his house looked. His mom was home even though she should have been in to work by this time in the evening. In fact, there was a second car in the driveway, and I knew Simon didn't get a car. There were empty liquor bottles littering the trashcan. It worried me because I never heard of Elaine drinking before.

When we were at the front door, Isabelle pulled her hand away from knocking. I opened my mouth to question her, but she held up a quieting finger. Then I heard the yelling. It was hard to make out what the exact words were. We could get a few louder words. "-think murder!" "-a week, Mother!" "-suicide!"

Isabelle and I looked at each other. I got a chilling sensation in my spine that all the way to my toes and made my nose crinkle. Something was wrong here. Simon's sister rarely came home. It made no sense as to why she was here today. She went to school in South Carolina! Instantly, my hand went to the door handle and turned it open. Isabelle gasped as I fell inside the house without permission.

I stared wide-eyed at Elaine and Rebecca. They looked at me like they had seen a ghost. "Clary, what do you think you're doing?" Rebecca blurted out, walking towards me. Her hands gripped my shoulders tightly. "That was very rude of you."

"She's a jig now, Bec," Elaine sighed half-heartedly. Her eyes stared into mine, searching for something. "She can do anything she wants, right?" Despite the cruel comment, I couldn't get past her eyes. Once with bright blue color, they seemed to have lost all vivacity. My stomach rolled.

"Where's Simon?" Isabelle asked. I looked around, but somehow my mind already knew. He wasn't here. I didn't know what here was, however. And I didn't know that Isabelle was so stubborn.

"He's not in," Elaine said in a voice with no emotion. "You should try again later."

"Simon goes two places. School and my house, but he's not at either of them," my hands clenched into fists. It was the way Rebecca flinched when I spoke. It was the way Elaine's face sagged in the silence. Something was very wrong here and they weren't telling me.

"He's not here." Rebecca whispered in a silent breath of air. She looked at Isabelle and then to me. When she looked to me, however, Isabelle made a break for it. She lunged past Rebecca, knocking her down. Elaine didn't try to stop her, either, so I followed behind quickly.

Izzy didn't know where she was going so I pulled her inside his room after she slipped past it. She slammed the door shut and locked it. "Where's his desk chair? We need to block the door."

"Just look for signs of life," I dropped to my knees and looked under his bed. There were old clothes and books, but his journal wasn't there. I wasn't sure where or if he kept his journal anymore. He did during our freshman year of high school, but things had changed since then. "Search his computer, Iz, not the closet."

She huffed indignantly and changed her direction away from the walk in closet. I looked back at her and noticed something off about his closet door, but I figured it was nothing. It was just that he normally never kept it shut. Half the time clothes were flowing out of it at such an uncontrollable rate that it physically couldn't be shoved closed.

I started on his bookshelf next. Just as I found the leather-bound journal Isabelle started to gag. "Iz?" I asked. She held a hand to her mouth.

"Oh, what is that God-awful smell?" she muttered behind her hand and shot straight for the bathroom. The pounding on the door from Elaine and Rebecca shook the computer and almost made it fall so I took over her position. My fingers flew across the keyboard searching for something I knew wasn't there. It took only a second for me to notice the smell. I started to gag, too, as it infiltrated my senses. Coughing, I followed Isabelle into the bathroom hoping for some relief, but all I got was this putrid, diseased and dead smell mixed with the scent of vomit. Isabelle was hacking out her lungs over the toilet. My stomach churned but it wasn't that bad.

"What is that?" I hissed, plugging my nose. She shook her head with a groan. Deciding she was of no use anymore, I bravely followed the stench to its source. "Something died in this closet, Iz," I swayed as I got closer.

"Stupid...nerd boy," Isabelle choked out as she shakily got to her feet. She joined by my side looking paler than ever. I raised an eyebrow in her direction but questioned nothing else. "Probably kept a whole clan of rats and let them die."

I couldn't force a laugh out of my throat. It made me realize how much I truly missed Simon. He was my best friend. Despite leaving on such cruel and awkward terms, I still loved him. It wasn't how he wanted me to love him, but I loved him nonetheless. When people loves people, they wanted to be around them as much as possible. And I felt slightly guilty for thinking so much about Jace and heterosexual feelings when Simon was missing and probably in painful embarrassment.

"Just open the doors, Iz," I gestured tiredly to the closet doors. At the same time, something came flying in through the window. Rebecca started screaming at us, begging and threatening. My heart leapt out of my chest. For some reason, I got the urge that what we were looking for was behind the doors she desperately wanted closed.

My hands gripped the handles on the door. With a final thrust I flung them wide open. Rebecca squirmed her way through the window at the same time as my body reacted to the horrible stench that had tripled.

It took my eyes a minute to process what stood - or rather hung - before me. They stated at the ground, curious as to why there was a puddle of grungy slop of mixed blood and just fluid in general.

My eyes started to shift upward slowly, as if I knew what they would meet when they reached their destination. Then, Isabelle screamed in horror, and I looked directly up. What I found was essentially unrecognizable. It was big – the size of a human, but it hardly resembled one. The body was bulging – with disgusting juices I was sure – and blisters were all over the skin. The smell was putrid and made me gag, but so did the rest of the sight. It was clearly a boy's bloated, dead body. The nails were falling off and his clothes were ripping and wet. My eyes connected with his face and my whole world took a pause.

And then it fell to pieces.

Because right in front of me, dangling only a foot above the ground, was my best friend with his glasses still on his face. His eyes were sunken in compared to the rest of his swollen face. Streaks of dried brownish colored liquid had cracked on his cheeks and down his neck. There were no shoes, which struck me as odd. I looked to the ground and the shoes were far from their usual resting place.

And then it hit me.

Simon did this to himself, knowing exactly what would happen and the juices that would exude from his body. He planned this out to the point to move his shoes to keep them clean. Simon knew what would happen. He wanted it to happen. He did this to himself.

"Simon," Isabelle cried. She fell to her knees and clutched her head. Rebecca's footsteps halted. She caught her breath inches behind me. Nobody said anything for a few precious minutes, and I was thankful for that. My head had started to pound. But then Isabelle found her footing and turned on Rebecca.

I heard her hiss as Izzy clamped her nails into her shoulder, but my eyes didn't even blink to move. My body stood there, taking in every inch. I couldn't get over how much bigger he was. He didn't look like Simon. His features weren't right. His nose wasn't so big, and his ears normally were bigger. Simon would never let his glasses be crooked. It was close to falling off his face.

"How long has he been like this?" Isabelle screeched.

They weren't right.

"She said a week, but it smells like longer."

I could practically see him pushing them up by the middle like my little nerd he was.

"Why is he still here? Why didn't you call the police?"

Rebecca then broke down. She fell on her knees, sobs rippling her body. It was the first time I turned around and jumped back to keep her from hitting my feet. "We can't move him. He's too heavy!"

I blinked and looked at Isabelle. Her mouth fell open and she looked pissed off. I frowned peculiarly. "Why the fuck does that matter?"

"B-because we ca-can't have him seen i-in the closet. What would people think…?" Rebecca said as she tried to control her breathing. "Poor little Si… He was just confused. Nobody else will get that."

I sighed and turned around again to look at Simon. His eyes were closed, which was better. If I had to look into my best friend's dead eyes… I could feel my heart falling deeper and deeper into a pit of darkness with each breath I took. I shook my head and blinked a few quick times. If I didn't think about it, about what it meant, about who caused him to do this, about who wasn't there for him…it made it easier. I looked back at his face. There was one thing that I couldn't ignore, however.

Isabelle suddenly jerked on my arm. She pulled me in a certain direction away from Simon, but I couldn't look away. It wasn't right. "We are calling the police you jacked up people!" Tears flowed freely down Isabelle's thin cheeks. Her voice cracked, but her arm was strong as she pulled me. "Come _on,_ Clary!"

"Wait!" I chimed and tore free. She groaned in silent protest. My body weaved past Rebecca, who was still a mess on her knees, staring up at her little brother like she couldn't accept what happened. I paused before her and looked in the same direction. Then, I took his desktop chair and pulled it in front of the body.

The stench made my eyes water, or maybe it was my heart. I couldn't feel anything at that moment. It was all pushed back due to the more important matter at hand. Simon's glasses were crooked.

With two delicately shaking hands I couldn't have corrected them for the life of me. However, Isabelle saw what I wanted. She choked back a sob as she climbed beside me and put them in place, perfectly even and high on the bridge of his nose. My shoulders sagged.

Isabelle suddenly jumped from the chair. She ran out of the door faster than I could register. I followed at my slower pace and found her outside hacking up nothing on their lawn. When she was done, her breathing was very heavy. Despite my whole body wanting to jump off a cliff, I knew I couldn't let Isabelle stay here. She'd never let them live. With a grunt, I tugged on her arm. She deftly let me guide her onto her feet. From there she and I tangled our bodies together, both thinking we were supporting the other, but really we were drawing strength from our closest friend.

Jace stood outside her house. He saw us coming and was ready to turn around, but something made him stop. When he did, Isabelle spit to the side and hit me upside the head. "Climb off your high horse and get help."

Before I could question why, she fell to the ground. "Jace!" The word was out of my mouth before I knew what was going on. My hands cradled Isabelle's faint head. She was fighting to keep her eyes open, and she didn't lose, but she was hardly functional. A shadow loomed over us and it diverted my attention. My head whipped around while keeping my hand protectively covering Izzy.

"'the fuck did you do to her, Red?" Jace moved in one graceful motion with the ease of water. He pushed me aside gently and cradled Isabelle, her head bobbing up and down with each step. I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice was stuck in my throat.

Images and smells flooded past my quickly made wall. Like an anchor in the sea, my heart dropped a thousand stories. It kept going deeper, pulling my body and soul with it. My heart hurt like the anchor kept running into the rocks but went down further because the pull was too strong. I pressed a hand to my chest and pinched, hard, in hopes to relieve me of such torture. And a silent, choppy cry escaped my lips.

"Clary," Jace demanded. My watery eyes saw a blurred image of him. "Clary Morgenstern, answer me!" All the came from me was a pathetic mewling sound. Jace cursed and ran off. He left me on the lawn as I folded my legs under my thighs on the cold, itchy grass.

I blinked and saw a flash of the rotting flesh. It had taken over Simon's body. For the rest of my life, that would be the image I thought of when I heard my best friend's name. My shoulders shook as I silently cried.

The door slammed open and my head snapped upwards. There I saw my brother running to me in worry. He paused above me, worry evident from his nearly touching eyebrows. I didn't more than one word, but it was enough for him to get the gist of it. "Simon."

He took in my state and picked me up. I tucked my head between his shoulder and neck and let my tears flow. It helped. I felt less alone in the damn world. I felt less like that could be me, or this could be my brother. But nothing would help was really ate at me.

My previous guilt had doubled, possibly tripled.

I had now killed two honorable men. I drove them to it. I never stopped them. I wasn't there for them in their times of need. Will Herondale died. Nobody even _thought_ to blame me. Nobody ever accused me of it. They only thought the 'disease' had hit his brain. Now Simon died. And nobody would ever know why he did it. They'd think he hated himself. They'd think he was confused. They maybe even acknowledge the straight-bullying. But they'd never point a finger at me. They'd never know that he was madly in love with me. They'd never know that I _knew_ that he was and _rejected_ him in his most unstable of times. Nobody would know, except God and me.

If I wasn't going to heaven before, I was assured my first row seat in hell now.

"What happened?" Jonathan had to repeat the question twice for me to hear him. "Speak to me, Clary baby."

"He-he did it to himself, Jon." My voice was barely above a whisper. He had to know. Somebody had to know. I couldn't be the only one to know. "I didn't stop him. Why didn't I stop him? Why?"

Jonathan made a shushing noise. My weight shifted on to something softer but colder. I shuddered and brought my knees to much chest. "What happened to Simon?"

I continued on. What happened was unimportant at this point. Why it happened was the problem my brain couldn't filter out. "I didn't know, though. How could I have know? I - I wasn't even here!"

"It's not your fault, Clar-," Jon stopped short when his door opened. A smooth voice I recognized immediately enchanted me and distracted my thoughts momentarily. It was a relief.

"Isabelle is asking for you, Jonathan," Jace said. "It's urgent."

"What's so urgent?" He said with a hint of aggression in his tone. Jon rose to his feet and looked from me to the door. But I wasn't looking at him or Jace anymore. "I can't leave Clary... Get her to talk. She's never been like this."

Jace'd comment came after the door shut behind my brother. "Yes, she has." I forced my eyes closed and turned my back to Jace. His voice distracted my thoughts but not the images. A wave of nausea rolled over me.

"Get out." My voice was broken. Even I could hear it. But at least I could think about something other than that God-awful body.

"What's going on, Red?" Jace wasn't calm, but he wasn't angry. The bed shifted as he sat down and a darker image flashed before me. His bloated arms with fluid oozing from blisters in every pore haunted me. I could taste the smell. A hand turned my body over and I pulled my eyes open.

Jace's normally angelic form had been transformed into something darker as well. His sunken in face contrasted against Simon's puffy features. Everything about him was the opposite from in that room, but just as scary. "Si... He killed himself."

Silence.

"And it's my fault," I groaned, shifting into a sitting position. I scooted back against the wall and rested my head above my knees. I didn't want to close my eyes despite how tired they were. Tired from seeing the horrors that were my best friend.

"How?" Jace moved beside me. I could feel his breath and eyes hitting my skin.

"He told me he was in love with me," I turned my head to the side and stared at Jace's. They were so bright and gold compared to his black attire. "And I told him we slept together. I'm sure he thought I was avoiding him and his feelings. And so killed himself."

Jace's frown deepened. He looked annoyed. "Not everything's about you, Clary."

My fear faded into the background. Jace replaced it was fiery anger. How dare he say that? Of course everything wasn't about me. I wished for nothing to be! But some things were about me. Many things - many deaths happened because of me. Here he was thinking I was just a dramatic girl!

But I felt more than defeated at this point. My brother left me in the hands of Jace, who didn't understand anything. There was no energy left. I closed my eyes and looked at the opposite wall.

"Call the police, then leave me." I sighed. I never expected Jace to be cynical of me. Couldn't he see me? Couldn't he see how true this was, or at the least, how much this was true to me?

"I didn't mean it like that, Clare," Jace began. I shook my head and he got the message. I wasn't in the mood to argue. He let out a frustrated growl and pulled out his cellphone. After dialing the number, Jace handed the phone to me. I deftly listened for the voice.

"911, what's your emergency?"

I answered in a stone cold voice. "My best friend is dead..."

* * *

 **A/N: This was a really hard chapter to write. It held me up for a bit because I hate writing deaths. But there's always going to be deaths somewhere. I am curious to know if anyone cried. My friend wants me to write her a story and she's like "I wanna cry!" I don't think anyone cries at my writing, but one of you all said you did once….so anyone? Poor Simon. I told you all I really don't like him that much...**

 **Now for the contest winners. Number one winner goes to Pizzanna because I LOVE PIZZA. I think that's what you're referencing, right? Well I love pizza and your name reminds me of it therefore good job. Your review review about review saying review review nine review times review was review funny review. Also, I'm decently sure you've reviewed and stayed with me since the beginning and that means a lot! Number two winner goes to Page1of365 because that's witty haha. I'm not sure if you're still with me, but I decided to extend the contest out a couple chapters. I wish I could remember what use made me burst out laughing because it was a funny username. Noticeable mention goes to reppinda5o3 because you leave many and long reviews and they are awesome.**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviews/favorites/follows. I read every review and they make my day. And yes, we made it to one hundred freaking reviews! Ahhh so happy! Let's see TEN today, in the name of Easter? Happy Easter everyone who celebrates it, and have a good Sunday to everyone who doesn't. Hope your days are great!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

* * *

Magnus and Alec were definitely fucking. These were the thoughts that encased Jace's head for most of the ride to the morgue. The dead give away showed when Alec voluntarily sat in the backseat of the car with Magnus rather than sitting up front. He and Isabelle normally would have fought for decades on that.

"I'm older," he'd say and shove Izzy out of the way.

"I'm a girl," she'd say and stubbornly sit on his lap.

It was normally a draw, in which case Jace got to sit up front.

But that was before they could all drive. Today, Jace drove for two reasons. He needed Magnus, and therefore Alec, to get into the morgue. Secondly, he would be Magnus' only ride back and Jace figured he could use that as his back up blackmail.

Jace couldn't have been happier to exit the car. He couldn't take any more of Magnus's suggestive comments or Alec's frantic looks over to Jace. He was in no mood to be around a happy, new couple. That was what he and Clary should have been like.

Jace was suddenly reminded of the reason why they weren't together and shook his head. He was here for one goal. Clary needed this. She was about to fall off her rocker if she couldn't get some form of solitude. It had taken him this long to piece things together, but even then Jace wasn't close to guessing what was going on with her. Instead, he talked to Jonathan the night after the police showed up and took Simon away.

"They were best friends. It was astounding to see Clary open up to somebody whose name wasn't Jonathan." Jon had said when Jace asked what her thoughts and beliefs were about. He decided not to point out the fact that his name officially was Jonathan. "Ever since Will, she hasn't been the same. I'm not sure if I should tell you the details, though."

Jace had pinned him against the wall. "I need to know. I need her, Jon, and you're getting in my way if you don't _move_."

Jonathan had blinked rapidly and sighed. He sat shoved Jace off and looked out the window in memory. His expression turned into sorrow. "Clary thinks it's her fault Will killed himself. She's been eating herself up over that for almost four months now. With Simon's suicide she has been acting the same way. I don't know what made her think that this time."

"So you think so too?" Jace asked. "You think it was her fault?"

Jon frowned and turned to him. "Yeah, I do. It was her fault she came into his life and made his parents realize he was straight. And it was her fault she wasn't there for him. But I don't blame her. Will had every right to feel the way he felt - about her and girls. She played a factor, Jace. That much is clear. But it was his parents who killed him."

Jace had gotten genuinely angry with his friend. Even if Clary made Will have feelings for her it wasn't her fault he killed himself. He willingly got into a heterosexual relationship. Nobody controlled his feelings. He sounded like a weakling in his mind now that everyone started making excuses for him.

However, Jace wasn't convinced of even that, which was the reason they were at the morgue today. Jace looked at Magnus as he turned the key into the lock on the door, tapping his foot impatiently. Magnus rolled his eyes and took his time walking through the door and to the evidence baskets. Jace had an urge to strangle him.

"I don't know if it is even here, Jace. One of my coworkers took the case right out of my hands - Dr. Carstairs. He's a good, thorough guy. I think he takes pity on the jig deaths." Magnus rambled as he sifted through the papers. Jace prayed he was incorrect and his coworker was finished with it. After all, there wasn't much more to do to his cousin's body. "We can't stay long. If anyone finds that I've taken, er, foreigners in here..."

"I still don't see why Alec came along," Jace pointed out just for his own amusement. "Double the punishment if we are caught." As expected, Alec's face turned red - with anger or embarrassment Jace didn't know. He looked swiftly from Magnus to Jace, giving off his 'I hate the world and this doesn't matter' look. Jace matched it with a slight smirk though the glimmer in his eyes was gone.

Alec avoided the question by asking, "It's been months, Magnus. Why would he still need Will's records?"

Magnus frowned, as if that thought never occurred to him. Jace rolled his eyes. It occurred to him, sure, but he only cared whether it was here or not. "That is quite odd. I'll ask him about it."

His hands found purchase on an item in hand. Magnus seemed puzzled by this object. He pulled it out of the box and looked at it quizzically. "Is that a locket?" Alec asked in slight disgust. Jace rolled his eyes and stole the item out of his hands.

"No. It's an old watch." Jace peered down at the picture. He had never seen this girl before, but it certainly wasn't Clary. No guy would put a picture of just his sister or friend in his watch. This was a treasured well-kept watch with a picture on the opening side. The girl was quite beautiful, but she contrasted majorly with Clary. She had waves of brown hair framing an oval face that was delicate and soft. Her eyes made her stand out with the blue-grey color.

"That's new." Magnus huffed indignantly. "Who is she?"

Jace shook his head slowly and set them watch down. He rummaged through the box. "I need that journal," he muttered as his eyes found nothing upon nothing. He could feel more than two pairs of eyes watching him. The hair at the nape of his neck stood stiff and Jace whirled around. The two other boys followed.

The person before them cleared his throat and looked expectantly between the three. "Well, well, well, Bane, what have you done?"

"Bane?" Alec looked from the man, who Jace supposed wasn't horridly ugly, to Magnus. His true jealousy shined through finally.

"Don't be so assumptions, Alexander," Magnus smiled smoothly and leaned back on the table. Jace cringed. It was the same table they dissected corpses. "This is my _loving_ coworker, James Carstairs, who only works weekdays..."

James sighed impatiently. "I had an urgent request, much like it seems you did." He walked towards the three and peered around at the name of the box. Then he produced a leather-bound journal from behind his back and held it up with a grim twinkle in his eye. "Looking for this?"

Jace eyes him carefully before calmly plucking it from his fingers. "Why did you have it? We can't take-," Magnus began to question, but James cut him off with a sad sigh.

"You see the girl in the locket there?" James asked, motioning to the item on the table.

"Told you it was a locket," Magnus muttered to Alec and Jace.

James continued, used to these interjections. "That girl meant a lot to Will and to me, even more so now. I knew them both very well. My question for you three...is how did you?"

"He's my cousin," Jace said, hoping he wouldn't pry. James nodded in understanding but didn't look like he was totally convinced completely.

"You're Jace? He mentioned you once. What are you searching for?" James asked.

Jace nodded briskly. Magnus butted in. "His girlfriend used to go out with Will before he died. She blames herself for his death."

James frowned in confusion. He looked at the wallet and picked it up. "This isn't your girlfriend," he said, but not in question. Jace shook his head, ignoring the fact that Clary wasn't his girlfriend either. "Classic Will," James laughed with bitterness. "Who is she?"

"Clary Morgenstern," Alec said. He looked from James to the picture and back. "But clearly, we don't have all the information."

"This girl was his real girlfriend," Jace growled. "He was using Clary for sex. I bet his real girlfriend had no clue either."

"Tessa Gray," James sounded like he was the one who was cheated on. "We were worried about that happening. I warned her... If a guy with a record like Will didn't pressure her for sex, what was I supposed to think?"

Jace felt oddly relieved. Yes, Will was an ass for using Clary. He couldn't imagine doing that to her. She deserved so much more, but now she could let go of this guilt. Tessa was the one he was stuck on. Tessa broke Will's heart and couldn't mend it. Clary was just there to relieve his steam.

"So Tessa's parents didn't want her to be heterosexual either," Alec inquired.

James shook his head sadly, like it still was a lasting problem. "Her grandfather, moreover. Tessa is a caring girl, and she hated sneaking around behind his back sinning. When Will needed her to talk to, she couldn't be there for him. She'll never let it go, but she's gotten past the heterosexual discrimination now."

"You speak fondly of her," Magnus chuckled as if he knew something everyone else didn't. Jace shook him off.

"Is her named mentioned in that journal?" Jace prayed. Clary would have trouble believing it just from word of mouth. She needed evidence. James shook his head, but Jace halfway knew it already.

"No. If he had, they would have informed her family. He was smart. He never mentioned either girl, obviously." James said. Jace growled. He had come so close. He was so close to proving to Clary that she doesn't have to endure self-torture. She already had been physically tortured. He still didn't know if she would move past that, but he didn't care if she never touched a guy again. Jace wanted her to be okay. He wanted her to stop shaking when she ate. He wanted her to stop looking over her shoulder or cringing when he stepped near her. And now his hope was gone.

"I'm sorry, Jace, but there's nothing to prove it to her." Alec patted his shoulder, but Jace shook it off roughly. He glared at James. He brought nothing but bad news to him. Jace left without a word. He wanted nothing more than to beat up many people. Will, for starters, and James forgiving him false hope, and Alec for his smug expression, and even Magnus because he had given him hope from the beginning.

And all he kept thinking was that it was his fault Clary couldn't let go. He couldn't make her forget everything. He knew it was unrealistic to make a girl forget everything when the girl was as brilliant as she. He wasn't anything near good enough for her. But Jace had tried and he had failed. Clary needed somebody good, somebody that the world wouldn't hate, but his poor Clary couldn't find that in a man like she wanted.

He hated the world and he hated everyone in it that made up this jacked up society.

Jace slammed his fist against the car door. He took two deep breaths and fell back against the car, closing his eyes in deep thought. How could he make this better? How could he help Clary?

An arm rested on his shoulder and Jace jumped to attention. He threw it off instinctively and glared coldly at Alec. He was staring at him like a kicked puppy. "What do you want?" Jace dared him to mention his mood - his failure.

Alec sighed and looked back to the door where Magnus was locking up. "The most you can do for Clary now is comfort her. She needs somebody, Jace. Don't push her away thinking you'll help."

Jace frowned. "I thought you didn't like Clary."

Alec made a snooty huff and rolled his eyes. "She could be the other one - Tessa. She volunteers at the bureau for finding birth moms. At least Clary isn't that soft." Jace peered at him distantly. He nodded briefly and dug his keys out of his pocket.

"Clary definitely isn't soft -," Jace began as he turned the key, but Alec caught his attention. The man suddenly seemed very pale to Jace. Obviously, he wasn't feeling the best either because he started to sway. Jae steadied him. "Alec? Are you feeling okay?"

Alec blinked a couple times and brushed of his hand. "I'm fine. Get in the car, Jace." Jace rolled his eyes and ignored his odd behavior. They got in and waited for Magnus.

"Bye Jem," Magnus eyed him carefully as they parted. Alec looked from him to James and back.

"Jem?" Alec repeated in question. Maybe he was ill. Alec normally hid his jealously better than that.

"Dear God," Jace groaned and turned up the music loud as he revved the engine. Still he could see them bickering.

"He's dating Tessa now, Alec. No need to get your panties in a wad, but I am quite flattered. Jealousy is cute on you," Magnus chuckled. Alec looked insulted by his comment. He was aghast.

"I am not jealous." Alec's voice betrayed his words, however.

"I am - of anyone not in this car right now," Jace muttered and sped up. Magnus continued questioning Alec why he cared so much, which would be when he would say he didn't. It was an endless cycle. By the end of the car ride, Alec had taken to playing ill just so he wouldn't be thought of as jealous. Jace was already annoyed before, but now it put him in an even worse mood. When they got back to the cemetery, he was surprised to be relieved. He'd take tears over yelling any day.

Jace's stomach fell when he saw the grave sight. He had expected for more people to show. Simon wasn't popular, but he was smart. There should have been more geeks there. There should have been school administrators to wish his loved ones their condolences. He grew angry at the realization that his own mother wasn't even there.

Clary was in the arms of Jonathan. She wasn't crying. He wondered if she had cried at all since he yelled at her. He regretted that now seeing how truly broken she was. Jace had been pent up over her near death. She'd come too close to killing herself, too, and yet she had the nerve to preach about Simon's suicide. It aggravated him. He could have easily been in her position. He couldn't imagine moving past Clary. They had a relationship with less words and more emotion than any other. It was pure and passionate and something Jace couldn't lose.

But now was not the time to focus on Clary. She needed to blend for the evening. Maryse and Robert Lightwood motioned for him to stand by him across the coffin, facing Clary. Beside Clary was a girl who looked almost familiar to Simon. He had heard of Rebecca before. At least the guy had some familiar there.

Simon didn't get a real funeral service. All churches refused to host one for a sinful jig. The sad part was that Simon probably never touched a girl in a sinful way before.

Rebecca stepped forward at the front of the semicircle. She was leading the ceremony, apparently. "Thank you all for coming today. I'm so sorry. My mother apologies as well. She couldn't make it." There was a silent pause. She seemed look around at the number of people. Everyone had heard where he was found the moment the ambulance showed up. There was almost fifteen people here total, and the Lightwoods made up a big part of it. Rebecca sighed. Her eyes were red and cheeks embarrassed. "We'll make this short. A few people have decided to speak some...kind words about my brother."

She stepped back and motioned to Jonathan. He and Jace made eye contact. Despite wanting to keep his distant and let Clary heal, Jace could tell she needed somebody there for her. Jace swiftly walked around. Clary didn't hesitate to move into his grasp. Her tiny frame was shaking in his arms.

"Maybe everyone knew Simon, but not everyone knew him like my sister and me. I swear that boy was over at my house more than his own." A quiet noise of chuckling echoed in the cold morning air. Jace could feel Clary stiffen. Jace's hands rubbed her arms in hopes to distract her. She relaxed slightly and he wondered if she even knew who was holding her. "Simon was nerdy and a horrible guitarist, but he was also very kind. When I couldn't be there, he always made Clary smile. His life was short but it changed my family for the better. I know he's influenced everyone he's talked to for the better, as well."

Clary stumbled. She came out of her shock and started looking around like a lost puppy. Jace kept a tight hold on her waist to remind her he was here. "He's in a better world, Clare, where they don't care." Jace whispered into her ear as Isabelle stepped forward to speak. She had tears in her eyes already, which was slightly surprising. Jonathan moved to take Clary back, but she didn't follow. She turned around so she could look directly into his eyes. He was surprised by how fierce her green orbs shone. She was on the edge of tears, Jace realized.

"I should be there instead, Jace," she whispered, her focus lost. Jace's heart dropped. She was so lost. This was like Clary. The world has made her hurt and stray from the path. He couldn't let her stay lost. He'd show her the way. There was no other option.

"You belong right here, Clary, right here with me," Jace promised. Clary took a deep breath as a tear rolled down her delicate cheek. Her eyes stars into his, assuring that Jace spoke the truth. He stared back with enough strength to last the both of them. "Okay?"

Clary shuddered and nodded distractedly. "Okay." She turned her body to the side and wrapped her arms around Jace as people continued to speak. In a way, he was glad she was off in her own little world. This funeral was a bad idea for her. He doubted she'd get much closure. After three more people, Rebecca and four men came forward again.

She spoke no words while she rested a single rose on his casket. Then they started lowering the coffin. Clary took a sharp breath in and smothered her face into Jace's side. He held her through it all, and when she flinched as a thud sounded, he whisked her away. Her body shook and the tears finally fell. Jace leaned them both against his car to give her privacy.

Clary closed her eyes and let the world beat her down for five good minutes. As she began to finally clear her head, people started coming out to the cars. Jace stepped closer and reached out to caress her face, or maybe it was to wipe a tear away. She didn't know and neither did he.

. . .

Clary's POV

His hand came towards me. I knew those hands. They were the hands that brought me so much joy. Never once had they let me down. They'd only been good to me. But I remembered a time when I needed them most. And instead, Jace left me. He fetched my brother instead of facing me in my weakest point.

I knew the facts. I pushed him away. I said I was straight, numerous times. I insulted him over his sexuality and never apologized. I left him after sex. I made him feel something for me and just left, seemingly for two months. Those two months he sat there with his heart breaking and his mind searching for the answers.

But now he was back here. He was trying to comfort me. He was comforting me, and I needed it. I needed it so badly. However, he made me angry. He couldn't choose when he would be there for me or not.

I slapped his hand away. "Where were you?" I cried. Tears were flowing freely now for both of the important boys in my life. "Where were you when I - I was a wreck?"

Jace looked shocked and partially confused. My heart clenched. He thought he did nothing wrong! Of course he did.

"I-I," Jace didn't know what to say as he stepped closer. I moved away in disgust.

"Sorry I slobbered all over you, Jace," I sneered and began to turn away. "It won't happen again."

I walked towards Jonathan's car, praying he was there. Jace grabbed onto my wrist and pulled me back in front of him. "Hey, wait a second!"

"Why? Why does anything from you matter to me anymore?" I was straight now, and I wasn't risking going back on it. My dads would hate me. This way I could be loved by somebody.

"I thought you hated me! I practically left you to be tortured and mutilated. I didn't think I had a chance, and I didn't think trying despite that would help anything." Jace protested. He was angry, too. He was angry at me? I didn't do anything wrong here.

"Just because I won't give out you don't care about me?" I growled. I never thought he'd be like that.

"I've never stopped caring about you from the second your red hair stepped onto my lawn." Jace stepped even closer to me. We were nose to nose at this point. I hadn't even realized the number of people around us.

"Don't lie to me," I hissed. My eyes narrowed. Jace's whole aura shifted at my words. His jaw clenched and his posture straightened. Maybe he was about to beat me or maybe he was about to lie his ass off. He didn't think much of himself before I called him a liar. I just released a flood - I hit a vein and I knew it.

"You're right. Maybe I did. Maybe I did stop caring for the girl who drove my own cousin to kill himself," Jace said in a deadly calm tone.

I had opened my mouth to retort back to him, but then I heard his words. My body fell and I stumbled, all the way back into his car. People were gasping and screaming, all directed in another location nearby. But all I could see was Jace. He had a menacing glare on his face. It bore into me like fire. His eyes slapped me, forming a scar in its wake.

He confirmed my deepest fear. I knew in my heart that I had something to do with Will's suicide, but I never thought anyone else blamed me. How could I have done that? I killed his family - one of the few remaining members of his family. I killed the man I had loved. My love for him wasn't enough. And everyone else knew it, too, or even if only Jace thought so. In his mind, I'll only be the girl who killed his family.

Somebody called out a name, and Jace ran off in a hurry. He cast one look over his shoulder at my unmoving form, but I didn't follow. I couldn't. All I could think about or hear was Will. Everything else was a blur of blue, red and white flashing lights that came and went, along with a loud siren. People filed in and out, but Jace's car stayed there. And I stayed there pressed against Jace's car inside my head. The sky grew darker just as my thoughts did.

I felt like I had no right to live. I had no right to be happy. First I killed Will and then I moved on to Simon. I remembered distantly why I left Jace originally. I knew I'd kill somebody again. I never thought it would be my best friend.

It seemed that no matter the distance I put between my male friends and I, they killed themselves either way. Who would be next? Magnus? Alec? Dear God, what if it would be Jonathan or Jace? I knew in my heart if either of them died - at my hands or not - I couldn't go on.

Yet it seemed I could do nothing to stop this domino effect. One after the other, I caused them to fall. It seemed that the rift I had started in hopes to keep Jace alive and well was totally unneeded.

But it didn't matter either. Jace clearly wasn't interested in the girl who killed his cousin.

When I got out of my thoughts, I was in a foreign land. The cars were gone, except for the Lightwoods', and the eerie trees made the darkness seem that much scarier. The tome stones showed names of the dead. The newly filled grave taunted me. For miles as far as I could see were stars looming brightly above me. That fact was relieving. Even if I never found love, even if my heart and mind were broken beyond repair, and even if I lived a fake life, the stars still shined and the sun and moon still rose and fell. Whatever I did and whatever happened to me, the world would go on.

"Clary?" I realized with a start that a car had pulled up in front of me. People filed out, and sadly, they were ones I knew. "What are you doing here? It's past 3 in the morning."

Jonathan's worried voice wasn't common to hear, yet I had heard it more times in the last four months than in my whole life. I looked up and regretted what I saw. Jonathan and Jace stood before me. Jace was no longer angry. In fact, he seemed as guilty as I truly was. Jace's eyes connected with mine. I said the only think I had been thinking for the day.

"I'm so sorry," I rasped. My voice hurt when I spoke. I tried to stand up and immediately got dizzy. Jon's hands picked me up swiftly, and I decided not to protest. I was so tried. I had been in that position, in my head, staring at nothing for over twelve hours. I probably needed water, but all I could think about were those words Jace said to me.

"What's wrong with you, baby?" Jonathan cooed at me like I was a baby. He tended to do that when I was hurt or weak. Normally it annoyed me, but I didn't have the energy to argue with him.

"I said some stuff..." Jace trailed off. His concern dripped from his words. I wished he would stop that. He was supposed to hate me. Everyone should have. I hated me. I was responsible for two suicides.

"Does she know about Alec?" Jonathan asked. I frowned. My interest was gained. As I slowly regained memory, I wondered why there was an ambulance and why they left their cars at the graveyard for the whole day.

"Alec?" I coughed. Jonathan opened the back seat and sat in it with me. Jace drove off toward home, slinging us in the backseat. My head was starting to hurt and all I could focus on was how nice it would be to sleep.

"He's in the hospital." Jon sighed in dismay. "He collapsed earlier today." I inhaled sharply. I tried to recall him acting sick, but I couldn't. I barely even spared him a glance on today of all days, and now I felt horribly for not. "We don't know what's wrong with him, but he was awake when we left."

"Will he be okay?"

Nobody answered so I asked again.

"Will he be okay?"

Jon muttered lowly. "We don't like what the symptoms are pointing towards…"

I wanted to ask what they were pointing to, but then the car slowed to a halt. Jonathan and Jace opened the backseat up. I avoided all eye contact with Jace. Jon didn't even let me try to get to my feet. I didn't know how he was going to get me into bed. At this hour my dads would be waiting to burn my hide. I shuddered at the premonition. "Let me go. I don't want them to see you," I protested, trying to climb out of his arms.

And then I heard them. Jace and Jonathan obviously saw them before me. It explained their lack of calming words.

"Get your disgusting hands off my daughter!"

I gasped when I saw the baseball bat flying towards our heads from the hands of Jo.

We were all dead tonight.

* * *

 **A/N: We were so close to ten reviews guys! Eh, I still love you! Or do I…? Well dang what do you think is going on guys? One of you all guessed a revelation we'll be seeing in the next three chapters, hehe, smart you. Good news! I finished! This will be the first long story where I don't hit a huge roadblock at the end and make you wait more than a month! Go this story! Let's get ten reviews for that, huh? We almost hit it last time guys. I know you are all frustrated with Clary's decision, but you got to look at it from her point of view. They are her family and she barely knows the Lightwoods. It's crazy, but it's almost over, so it's okay. What do you all think is going to happen? Crazy parents.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

* * *

Jo and Valentine appeared before us in a flash, the former one wielding a bat. I flinched out of instinct. My legs shook as I stood, and I felt Jace move beside me. I ignored his presence and melted into him, looking with concern at Jonathan, who was fuming. "Give our daughter back!" Jo was hysterical. I had seen him sad and hurt, but I had never seen him so unstable. He was angry at Jonathan, my own brother.

"You're welcome for picking her up off the ground of the graveyard and getting her home safely," Jonathan spat as he squared his shoulders. I knew that stance. He was expecting a fight. My body got a wave of energy in anticipation. I couldn't let this happen, not over me. "Which is better than you all have done to her."

 _Wshhhhhh!_

The bat came out of nowhere. Jon saw it and ducked easily, but I was too slow. Jace moved us, but it was too late. The metal piece of sports equipment made instant contact with my head. Instantly, all sounds stopped. Everyone gasped as my body went limp towards the ground. Jace caught me in his arms easily, but that didn't stop the searing pain. It felt like my whole body absorbed that hit.

A yell crept out of my throat, loud enough to catch all attention. Jace's family, except Maryse, stood behind us, and they stopped moving towards the street where everything was going down. Blood dripped down my cheek at a quick pace, but I ignored that. Pushing past the extreme dizziness, I leapt out of Jace's arms. My feet pushed me forward until I stood equal distance between my dads and my brother.

"Enough!" I yelled. My voice was much deeper than normal, and I had trouble hearing it. I looked from Jon to my father. Valentine had a disgusted expression, like he knew my next words. I didn't know what I wanted to say, but I knew this had gone on far too long. "He is my brother and he's living with strangers! Who cares if he's straight? It doesn't mean he's not still our blood. It doesn't mean he's not still family. Look at what this has caused us." I whirled around and looked at Valentine, meaning these words for much more than in this moment. My voice rasped and broke. "Look at what you've done to me, father."

His eyes locked with mine, looking soul deep. The harsh edges and lines around his eyes didn't change. If anything, they hardened. "We've done nothing, Clarissa," my father said, his lips lifting when I flinched. That name now reminded me of my months of torture and of Simon. "You two brought this on yourselves."

He said it with such fury I whimpered, stumbling back in shock. How could he say that? He was speaking so honestly, like he truly believed those words. I had a revealing moment, one of such sorrow and loneliness. There was no fixing him. In the bottom of his heart, he thought the worst thing in the world was to be straight. He didn't love me – he loved the picture perfect family idea. He and I were blood-related, but there was no way we could be family.

Jonathan, clearly, knew this long before me. "How could you say that?" I whispered without realizing it. Nobody heard me. Jonathan's battle cry drowned my voice out.

"My sister put the dead light in her own eyes? My sister tortured herself for months of solitude?" He screamed in absolute fury. I turned around just in time to see him fly past me. It was like a bull let loose. His eyes were red with years of vile rage. It was all let free in one swing. His fist connected with Valentine's eye at speeds that made me cringe.

But Valentine wasn't unprepared. He grabbed Jonathan by the neck, picked him up, and threw him on the floor. I gasped and stumbled forward, only to be held back. I didn't see who held me, but they were strong. "Jonathan!" I cried in fear. Fist after fist slammed into his face, and with each one my heart stopped. "Jon," I whimpered. Arms wrapped around me, trying to hide my face, but I didn't need to see. I could hear just fine.

"You dare to touch me?" Valentine grunted. "You are nothing, you disgusting stick! Your hands deserved to be chopped off for that!"

"Jon!" I screamed, ripping through the arms that surrounded me. "Help him!" I yelled to Jace. He looked stone cold murderous, but he shook his head.

"This is Jonathan's battle," he glared.

I begged and pleaded, but he didn't budge. Jo was standing behind them with a grim expression on his face. He wasn't protesting or even shocked by this. "Please, he will kill him!" I was sobbing now.

I finally got a glimpse at him. No he was in a chokehold, and his face was in the process of turning from red to blue. I clenched my eyes shut in hopes that when I opened them, Jonathan would be winning. A chorus of muttering and screaming encased the whole street in a large circle. Somebody was fighting through the crowd with dark black hair. "If I help him, he'll always be under Valentine's rule," Jace whispered. He sounded like he knew it personally.

My mind was racing between the dizziness and the fear. I wracked my brain for a solution. Somebody had to stop Valentine. I looked back over to them to see Jon and Valentine tumbling, fighting to get on top. Jace looked back at the person fighting through the crowd as he neared the front. That was my moment. I didn't hesitate before digging my nails into Jace's arms and lifting my knee into his groin just light enough to make him groan and lose his hold. I spun away and sprinted to the fighting figures.

Jonathan was on the bottom with blood smeared all over his face. All I knew was that Valentine was going to pay. He was going to pay for hitting Jonathan but also for so much more. All my anger I had suppressed since that night on the roof came rushing back into my veins, stronger than ever. This man was the man who beat me, who electrocuted me, who whipped me, who slapped me, who starved me, who drove me to suicide, and, most of all, who took away my faith in humanity.

I jumped onto Valentine's back, knowing I'd be of no use with my puny arms. His arm had been cocked back, ready to give another blow to my brother. Instead, my hands wrapped around his forearm and caused Valentine to lose all momentum. He jerked his arm to get away from my grip, but the damage had been done. Jonathan took that hesitation to land a solid blow to the man's temple, and then we were both flying backwards.

I was left on the ground while Valentine scrambled up to his feet. Jonathan, beaten and bruised, stayed on the ground, groaning at his movements. I crawled over to him as Valentine hobbled towards us. Using the last of my energy, I got to my knees and stood protectively over Jonathan.

"Move, Clarissa," Valentine growled. His eyes threatened mine, and I knew he'd follow through. Somehow, I hoped he wouldn't. I knew he'd done much worse, but to him I was his gay daughter again.

"You have to got through me to get to him," I trembled as I spoke. My eyes caught on the blonde figure just above Valentine's towering shoulder. Jace and Robert Lightwood were now running towards us with a police officer hot on their tails. Jace's eyes were wild. They held two emotions that were rarely seen from him. Fear and desperation. My heart pounded loudly at the sheer expression.

At least I could claim I was distracted when the blow came.

One second I was looking at a beautiful boy whom most likely loved me, and the next second my face was smashed into the cold cement ground. I could feel the after shocked of Valentine's hand. It was fast and sharp. His slap hurt me more than any of the times he slapped me in torture. This slap was meant for even his most perfect daughter. I'd never be enough for him. I was already tainted to him. He didn't care about hurting me. He wanted revenge on the straight son of his.

Black spots danced across my vision. I had trouble focusing on my words. My face still on the pavement, I rattled a broken yet loud voice for the whole neighborhood to hear. "I slept with Jace Herondale…and it was great…"

The look on his face gave me a wave of satisfaction. He looked mortified in front of all of his friends. And then Robert's pale fist flew straight into his temple and he fell before my eyes.

After that, I welcomed the blackness to wash over me. I was done. He was done.

Jace was wrong. It wasn't Jonathan's fight. And I was wrong to think it was mine, too, because in the world we lived in, it was more than a person's fight. Every battle heterosexuals fought was a battle for all of us. Every loss and every win. We were united in that one way. We were oppressed and shamed, but every battle meant a small victory for us all. It was all of our battles. Jace's, mine, Isabelle's, Jonathan's, and even Simon's and Will's. We all shared the victory over a highly ranked heterophobe.

And it was a sweet victory for sure.

. . .

There was too much silence. It's the first thing I noticed when I come to. I also noticed that my head is throbbing with each heartbeat. My hand lifted to my head, checking for any immediate holes missing. When I was relieved of that fear, I opened my eyes.

The room I was in was much cleaner than my room at home. Black and white furniture and walls encased my vision. I shifted in the bed and found that it was quite comfortable. When I sat up, I was met with nobody around.

Immediately, my memories came flooding back of the many times I had woken up alone in that foreign attic. I was always disoriented. What if they were torturing me again? It was a nicer environment, but that meant nothing. How long had I been out for? Where were Jonathan and Jace? Why didn't they save me?

I crawled out from under the covers in different clothes than I remembered owning, and that really freaked me out. "Help!" I screamed, scrambling to my feet. Instantly, my head started to swim, and I couldn't make it to the door. "Somebody help me!"

What if my dads moved our family in the time I was asleep? I embarrassed them and this was how I would repay it. I felt hallow inside. Didn't I win? Didn't I expose their worst fear? Why would my brother let them take me? Why would the law let them take me?

The door flung open and I jumped backwards against the bedpost. Groaning, I looked up, ready to face Valentine and that horrid whip again. My heart skipped a beat when I saw who was actually standing in front of me.

Jace and his wildly concerned eyes were analyzing the entire room for a threat. Beside him, Jonathan pushed past into the room, headed straight for me. Isabelle and her parents stood behind, peering in. Max shoved his way under Jace's arm.

I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. I felt surrounded by people who were here for me, who cared about me, who loved me.

Also, I felt like an idiot for screaming for help.

"Clary, what's wrong?" Jonathan asked, kneeling beside me. I kept looking at everyone, shocked to see them all here. It was too much. I had been expecting to be tortured and instead I was greeted with all of this? Tears started running down my cheeks, and I threw my arms around Jonathan.

It finally hit me. I was safe. I was out of my dads' hands. They couldn't harm me anymore. Look who I had standing in their way. Jonathan and Jace clearly would die before they came near me again. I could see it in Jace's eyes. He was in physical pain not touching me, assuring himself that I was here and okay. I closed my eyes and cried with relief.

"I thought I was with Valentine again," I spoke into his shirt. His arms squeezed me tighter. I hadn't been hugged like this since that night on the roof. I had somebody. Somebody was here for me. He held me tight and let me know he was here. It was one of the best feelings in the world.

"You're not and you won't be ever again," Jonathan caressed my hair. This took me by surprise. I wanted so much for that to be true, but where would I go? I had nobody. My grandparents were worse than my dads, and their siblings were nonexistent. For a second, I wondered who my biological mother was. Would she take me in? It was likely that she didn't want anything to do with me if she willingly gave her kid to a gay couple. She knew she would either way, but I doubted she had a motherly instinct. Most female breeders were in it for the very well pay. Some were straight, and then they were more likely to care about their kids they sent off, but most were just carries who did it as their job.

"What?" I pulled away and looked at him in confusion.

Robert and Maryse stepped inside the room. Isabelle started grinning. "We've spoken with the judge here in town. He said if we took this case to court it would be unlikely that you would win," Robert sighed. My stomach turned. How could I think for a second that I could actually get away from the monsters that raised me, that beat me?

"However," Maryse cut in lightly. "We spoke with Jo this morning. We were able to convince him to let us house you. Now we will ask you to stay in school and go to college. Can you do that?"

"Yes, but I can't-,"

"But you will," Jace interrupted. I looked to him with a frown on my face. That was so much money from their pockets. They already were housing my brother, and even that was a bargain. How could anyone ask them of this? If my brother had something to do with it, I swore I'd kill him. "This isn't just about you, Clary. It's about heterosexuals in general. You were abused and mistreated and deserve justice. But if you can't have that, the least we can do is take you away from it all."

"I don't deserve this," I protested. Waves of guilt washed upon me. Maybe a normal heterosexual girl deserved this, but I did not. I played a major role in killing two people. A murderess accomplice didn't deserve any more than the life I had been handed.

"We don't care what you do and don't deserve," Maryse laughed softly. She sat on the bed and helped me to sit beside her. I never did get to speak to them much. Now I felt even worse about that, too. "It's about them. It's about making a statement, Clary. We can't let narrow-minded oppressors rule our lives. We have to make a stand, especially for those who can't." My mind drifted to Simon and Will. Maybe she was right about that. If one jig can land in a happy home after months of abuse, it meant that the others had hope. They could hope for the same thing, and maybe that would help push them through to happier times.

"Also, we intend to follow through with charges," Robert sat on my other side. "If you agree, I believe we can put Valentine in jail for what he's done to you. It will take time and a good lawyer, but we've got both."

I looked between everyone. They all were excited and expectant. Max was crossing his fingers with hope – hope that I would stay. A nervous smile etched onto my lips. I took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay," I breathed. I turned to Robert, however, more serious. "Like you said, trials take time. As much as I want to see him burn, I don't want to go through years of reliving those months over and over. I – I can't," I admitted, blush spreading over my cheeks. "I'd rather just move on, if that's okay."

Robert nodded. "That's perfectly fine. Jonathan suspected this. We've thought up of a second option," he said. That was when Isabelle did a miniature squeal. "As you know, we are supporting their band one hundred percent, which is why we have decided to move to California." He let that sink in, but I really didn't need it to sink much. If anything, I welcomed the idea. Distancing myself from the horrible east coast was my best option. I was broken and just so tired. I was tried of hiding who I was. I was tired of going to school and knowing people didn't like me just because of who I preferred in bed. I was tired of it all. "My company is based there, and with Jace soon to take over the head in business, we need to be close."

My head switched to look at Jace in surprise. His lips lifted into a smirk and he winked at me. I looked back to Robert, miffed by how little I actually knew about Jace. Maryse said, "Finally, there's a highly renowned doctor in San Francisco for Alec."

"Alec?" I asked. "Is he okay?"

Maryse's face sagged. "Not entirely. I'm afraid that would be our faults. Press condoms for heteros and homos, apparently."

"What?" I asked, my eyes getting bigger. That didn't sound good. My understanding of condoms was already small.

"In all actuality, you didn't really press them for me, either," Isabelle pointed out, but Maryse brushed her comment off. I didn't, however, and looked to her. She was blushing and looked less than innocent. Her eyes connected with mine and she quickly looked away. Something was up with her, but I decided to leave that for later.

"Clary, Alec has HIV."

* * *

 **A/N: I am hearing a lot of hate for both Clary and Jace. I don't blame you all. I would blame it on 'I don't like them either, but I don't make all my characters likable,' but I think it was a flaw in my writing. I just couldn't imagine Clary jumping back to Jace as her savior. It seemed kind of non-feministic of me. I should have made a better reason for them fighting. I see that now, after I've already finished the story, like always. But I can't complain too much. Each new story I write is better than the last in my book.**

 **She's finally free! SO sorry for the wait. I loveeee the reviews so much. When I'm down, you guys pick me up with the awesome reviews. Keep them coming for the longer chapter next time! It's almost over with and it makes me kind of sad. I really am not done with Clace yet, but there's little room in this story to add more. *sigh* Oh well. I might be feeling a one shot later one? Ideas?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

* * *

Robert turned around and held out two coffee mugs. I bit my lip, debating, and chose the right one with cream. He laughed and set it in my hands. "Thank you, Mr. Lightwood," I smiled tightly. It felt silly of me to have to choose between black or creamed coffee. Two days ago, I was choosing where to live, and a week before that I was choosing to take my life or not.

"Call me Robert," he patted my head. "Are you sure you're comfortable here? It can't smell nearly as nice as Isabelle's room."

I shook my head with a grimace. The idea of using Isabelle's bed made my stomach churn. I had no doubt in my mind she and my brother had sex there, multiple times. "No. I like annoying Jace when he comes in here for clothes," I admitted with a grin. Robert shook his head with mirth and grabbed my half-eaten breakfast tray. It was at that moment that I remembered he was there to witness my announcement – I slept with Jace and it felt great. Robert leaned close to me.

"You didn't hear it from me, but…" he looked around like somebody was watching, "Jace likes it." I snorted and shoved his shoulder.

"Go visit Alec." I sent him a knowing look. "Despite my previous behavior, I _can_ stand to be alone for a few hours." They didn't do much to hide their rotations between the hospital and Jace's room. It was only troubling because Alec's visiting hours were limited. It was between ten in the morning and two in the evening. He was being kept for four days to observe the head injury that occurred. Apparently, he hit his head on a tombstone. What were the odds?

The elevator suddenly started moving – their form of a doorbell. Robert grew a grin. "Yes, but you shouldn't have to."

With that he left the room, cracking the door on his way out. I pushed myself up into a sitting position. I was on house confinement due to Maryse's orders. Ever since I almost passed out again at Alec's news, she was adamant about my rest. It was a compromise to let me move around – with somebody at my side incase I got dizzy and fell. Basically, I got lucky to have not gone to the hospital, too.

The next people to enter my room were Jonathan, Jace, and Izzy. The former two were very common visitors. I swore neither of them skipped a rotation. Half the time they both just stayed here. That made my heart soar, sorry Alec.

"How's-,"

"Alec is doing better than you, Clary, just like yesterday," Isabelle interrupted me before I could even finish my sentence. I felt the heat run into my cheeks. "Look at your pale face." She shoved me over and sat beside me, pinching my cheeks. I squirmed under her grip until she released me. She made an irritated face and looked around the room. "Ew, God, did you have bacon this morning?"

"Yes, wh-,"

She was on her feet and clutching her stomach faster than I could blink. Her hand grabbed Jonathan as she ran down the hall. I stared after them in wonder. Jace and I looked at each other before both deciding to not try to figure Izzy out. He moved from the wall and replaced Isabelle's spot on the bed. I could feel his heat against my arm, and I fought the urge to close my eyes and sigh.

"It's quite funny to see Alec with everyone running around him. You'd laugh," Jace said. I smiled lightly and looked into his eyes, pulling out the real thing he wanted to say. It was right there on the tip of his tongue, yet he forced it back. Maybe it was for my sanity, or maybe it was for his. Either way, I took the breather with ease.

"I wouldn't. That's something you'd do," I shoved his shoulder. He sent me a rueful smile. "I think Isabelle's pregnant."

Jace immediately started to choke. "You what?"

I nodded my head and wrapped a curl of my hair around my finger. I focused on that as I spoke. "I thought she was just sick or shocked, but she's thrown up almost three times in the past week. And have you noticed how much w-,"

"If you say weight, I will kill you!" Isabelle yelled from the bathroom across the hall. Apparently she didn't make it to her own personal one. I grinned like a bandit, and so did Jace.

"How much whinier you are!" I shouted, laughing into Jace's shoulder. He chuckled lightly. I could feel his eyes watching me, however. When I looked back at him, he didn't move his gaze away. If anything, it intensified.

"That would explain why I am going to be the next head of the company – these idiots don't know the first thing about a condom," Jace smirked dubiously. He looked to my stomach briefly. "I don't see you pregnant."

"Yes, but that was just one time," I blushed. His eyes were brightly golden today, and his dark outfit only accentuated it. Jace looked just like Jace normally did, and I loved the familiarity of it.

"I can change that," Jace winked. I shifted my gaze away from his momentarily. "Sorry. Too much." I looked back at him with a frown. No, that wasn't it at all.

"It's just – instinct." I hated admitting that fact, but it was the truth. Any sexual innuendoes made me remember what used to happen to me directly after. I shuddered at the memory. It made me angry, as well. I wanted so much to move past those times, but would that ever happen?

"You won't forget it, Clary," Jace's voice broke through my thoughts. I frowned and looked at him. His lips lifted in knowledge. "I was there, too. You won't put it in your pile of memories of senior year. It won't happen."

I took a shuddering breath, uneasy about this topic. "Then what do I do?" I was hanging on at this point. It was not a balanced system in my mind. Every one of us knew I was about to blow at some point. I had the physical pain. Now was time for the emotional scarring.

Jace huffed out a deep breath and looked to the ceiling. "The only thing we can do. Take a deep breath and hold in your tears until you get home." I held in a silent breath. He nudged me. "I'm kidding, Clary. You can move on from this, but you won't be able to forget it. And you shouldn't. It's a part of you."

"I'm not sure it's a part I'd like to keep," I avoided his gaze, staring at my hands. "It's not my favorite."

Suddenly, Jace's hand moved into my field of vision and wound its way into mine. "I like all your parts, Red." I looked back at him, questioning. He spoke freely and honestly. A smile began to etch its way onto my lips.

"Don't make me puke again." We both jumped apart at her voice. She was standing in the doorway, glaring like the bitch she was. I felt flustered again. Didn't anyone knock?

Behind her, Jonathan looked like a guy who just saw a ghost. I smiled weakly. "You told him?"

"Yeah, I told him," Isabelle huffed indignantly. She sat over top of my feet at the foot of the bed. I liked the fact that Jace was still holding my hand. His fingers started brushing my hand in a rhythm. My heartbeat fluttered, but I forced myself to focus on Izzy. "How did you know?"

I shrugged. "I can be observing, at times."

Jonathan glared at me. "And you didn't think to clue me in on this? What are we going to do?" I was surprised to find him so scared. He was never scared. I had only seen him angry, hurt, or _very_ angry…like hit his father in the face angry.

"Breeder season came early, my friend, can't say I didn't warn you," Jace smirked. I rammed my shoulder into his. Now wasn't the best time for jokes.

"Yeah…after a two months!"

"You can't kill the baby!" I suddenly remembered him asking what they would do. I didn't know what I personally would do, but there was no way I could abort the pregnancy. All six eyes turned to look at me as if I had woken from the dead. I blushed and sat back against the bed again. "I mean…we spoke about fighting for the ones who can't the other day. The baby can't fight for itself, and we need to at least give it a shot." It seemed near hypocritical to do that to the kid.

Jace admitted, "You could make some serious money off of-,"

"We are keeping the baby!" Isabelle interjected. "We already spoke about that much. Jonathan is just worried about getting his ass handed to him when we tell Dad."

My heart settled back down. I looked from Jonathan's worried expression to Isabelle and wanted to laugh. Clearly, that wasn't all that he was worried about. I decided not to mention that, however. If I knew my brother, he'd come around quickly. He had always been the one who was good with kids. They always cried or vomited when I held them, but for Jonathan they slept like the babies they were.

"A baby on tour," Jace smirked. "Interesting."

Isabelle cursed. "I didn't think about that." She looked to Jon. "We'll need to talk to the band and figure something out." There was a good chance if we just moved to the right place in California they would get by with local gigs.

"You'll be fine. You'll have one excited aunt to watch the poor kid," I grinned. Jonathan sent me a grateful look. He would clearly need more help than Isabelle through the emotional part of this pregnancy. "So is the whole band moving to California, too?"

Izzy nodded. "Magnus bought a huge flat and is letting Sebastian rent out the separate lower floor. Alec isn't the happiest about that." I snorted. No, he wouldn't be. Alec was a surprisingly jealous person. "You remember Maia?" Jace's hand squeezed me and I squeezed back with equal strength. I definitely remembered everything about that night in New York. "Get this – her and Jordan are moving into their own flat together in California!"

My eyes went wide. That was one big move. I didn't even know they knew each other. I assumed Jace introduced them, but how Maia found him was lost to me. I sneaked a look at Jace. There was no way I couldn't compare living with him to that. Well, when it came to Jace, things were complicated. In a normal relationship, I easily could have considered moving in with him when my dads were the other option. I was pretty much hooked to say the least. Now I would practically be living with him. But it got me wondering. What would we be? Despite all that we went though, I still had hesitations about dating him. The problem was that I didn't think _I_ could stand to keep my distance from him.

Later that evening, I was reading in the library with Max and Jace. Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass echoed from the kitchen into our ears. Jace and I met eyes. Without words, he and I jumped from our seats. We dashed into the kitchen, and I was proud to say I didn't tired at all. Isabelle was holding tightly onto Jonathan's arm. They both stood directly across from Maryse. I was slightly upset Robert wasn't here for this, too.

Maryse was fuming red. Her shock had clearly once been there, and it had caused her to drop the marble vase. Wrong timing, Isabelle. Now, however, she was trying for words.

"Where is your common sense? We own a condom company!" Maryse started to pace. Her gaze narrowed in on my brother. "You." His expression was priceless. He went from cautious to deer in the headlights. His eyes grew and he instantly backed up, dropping Isabelle's hand in the process. "Two weeks after we find out you've been secretly dating _behind our backs_ in our own house, you tell us she's pregnant?" Her voice was dangerously level. It meant her anger was building and building until it exploded like a volcano.

"Neither of us knew by then, Mom, I promise!" Isabelle stepped between the two, but there was no stopping Momma Maryse. In fact, that only drew her attention back to the both of them as whole.

"You idiots!" Then, she grabbed them both by their hair and yanked harder than life. A grin spread across my lips and I looked to Jace, seeing him smile as well. I couldn't have imagined it better.

. . .

Alec was coming home from the hospital this afternoon. Thankfully, I had been allowed out of Jace's room and around the house. I mainly stayed in his bed, though. When I got up, I saw a glimpse of my old house and shriveled away. I could still feel the burn of Valentine's slap on my face.

"Jace, make sure Clary gets around fine. We'll be back from Isabelle's, er, appointment with Alec." Robert almost growled the last part out. Jace yelled back an 'okay' from Jonathan's room, which he had kindly taken over. The elevator signaled that we were now alone.

I sighed and fiddled with my phone. I scrolled though twitter and instagram…again before trying my luck with Facebook. It had been years since I logged in. The third post from the top was jig hate, as was the fifth. _Keep scrolling. Keep scrolling._ I looked past the insults and the discrimination and the bullying…or the most part. A few words jumped out at me.

 **Growing Infestation. Of the devil. Therapy Treatments Failed. Caused by Childhood Abuse?**

I flinched at the second to last one. Were they talking about me? What did they mean by failed? Did the kid die? Did he suffer untreatable damage? Maybe the parents were sentenced to jail time. Maybe the kid beat them up after months of resentment festering inside him.

I knew that last hope was a joke. When Jace first told me he went through therapy, I thought the same thing. I thought that must have spent every day plotting his revenge. I thought maybe that was the fire I saw in his eyes – the type of rage one could only grow through immense torture.

But after two months of 'therapy,' I know. I started out so strong. I went into it with a smart mouth thinking the more I hurt them, the less they could get on me. Quickly, he taught me I was wrong. With each whip and each slice, my anger grew and grew, but it could only grow so much. It had to escape somewhere. It started oozing over the sides, but that wasn't enough. One week turned into one month. I lost all hope. I knew this would be my life forever. Maybe they would stop. Maybe they wouldn't. Either way, I'd never stop reliving it. The pain that came with every smack, every word, every look. The smile on his lips as he delivered them. The crackle of his knuckles before each session. My anger reached a turning point. It was so intense. If I had the energy and a little help, I wouldn't have hesitated to snap my father's neck into pieces. That was one and a half months into treatment. After those couple of days, I realized it would only keep getting worse. My nightmares started to harm me as much as real life. There was no escaping it, and I was tired of fighting it. Like a drain in a bathtub, the plug was released. It took all my anger away. But anger is power. Anger drives a person. Spite or rage will give a person immense amounts of energy, or in my case, it gave me enough energy to have hope.

Then I lost the hope. I lost it all. My days consisted of blurs of pain and darkness. It mixed into the same because I had given up. I no longer cared what happened to me. Anything could have happened to me and there would always have been a part of me in relief for a change. My fight was gone. My spirit was gone.

Did I ever get it back? Did I ever find my fight again? I clicked the link to the therapy article. Maybe my hope for humanity isn't lost. I bite my lip and red through the paragraphs quickly.

I had to clear my throat to keep from crying. I felt embarrassed for thinking anything good towards jigs would ever make it on the internet in the first place. When they said failed, they meant the heterosexual was still just that – heterosexual. After years of therapy. Years.

My body quivered at the mere thought of it.

I furiously wipe at my face. It wasn't me, I repeated in my head while glancing over pictures. Just forget it and move on, I told myself. They were probably fine. They probably found some way to cope with it, or maybe their treatment was less intense.

A gust of wind came through the open window, making a pile of mail that Jon had gotten via my dads' trashcan fall to the ground. I started picking them up, my mind still whirling on the article. It was then that I saw it. Tucked away between a candy bar wrapper and a Christmas card was a handwritten letter. The writing was obvious. Nobody still wrote in cursive except – nobody but _him_. I looked at the date and my heart stopped. It was dated the day he ended his life.

Between the article and the recent recovery, my mind was at its emotional capacity. It built in my heart and spewed over the sides with exponential growth. I fell to the ground clutching that letter but made no move to open it. There was no use. My hands shook in the news that this was it. This was the last thing on his mind. All he wanted was to reach me. All he wanted was to say these very words.

Between my hands and my tears, I couldn't manage to open it. I never even came close. It was right in front of me, clear to my and anyone else who would be in the room's eyes. Yes, it was wrapped away and hidden like a little gift, but there was no hiding the fact of what it was.

I screamed in frustration, my nails ripping at it and missing, hitting my arm instead. A stinging sensation occurred, and now my blurred vision added in a faint mix of red. After the scream, I let everything loose. My hatred for my fathers. My hatred of the world. The lonely feeling I had felt for years growing up. The even lonelier feeling of being on my own. Will. Simon. My love for the boy who I pushed away. The unexplainable feeling in my heart and soul that made me crave boys. The sense of brokenness, that I was a disease to the world. The fear of where I'd end up after I died. The fear of dying alone. The fear of not dying soon enough. It all was too much. My sobs weren't quiet. They ripped through my throat as if I were being set to flames from the inside out.

I put my head in between my knees, rocking back and forth as tears ran freely from my eyes.

 _Cursed_

 _Not normal – not human_

 _Naïve_

 _Attention whore_

 _Stick_

 _Freak_

I didn't notice the door creaking open or Jace walking forward. It was only when he scooped me up into his arms that I was made self-aware. He stood me up, forcing my legs to take some of my own weight. My hands gripped his shirt as I cried into his chest. Jace wrapped his arms around me – tightly. He made his presence to me known. My thoughts suddenly felt less lonely, less confusing. They were still there and still surged through my mind with the intensity of a hurricane, but he shared it with me. He felt me jerk and curl inwards on myself. Jace didn't let me go through this alone.

I tried to speak, but all that came out were garbled, misshapen words. He nuzzled his head above my shoulder. "I'm here, Red, I'm here."

He didn't say the words that were unneeded.

 _I'm here for you, always._

He helped me come back to reality. My mind was spinning out of control. I raised a shaking hand and showed him the nearly crumpled letter. Jace's eyes read briefly over the name with caution. He said it aloud. "Simon."

I nodded and clung tighter to his chest. "I c-can't o-open it."

Jace nodded and started to move, pulling me with him. "Want me to read it to you?" I breathed a deep sigh and agreed. We settled on the bed, him leaning against the wall. I lied between his legs on my side, my head pressed against his heart and my knees to my chest. My eyes didn't move from the window. The lack of the moon and stars cast dark shadows everywhere outside between the trees and houses. The start of a storm was brewing. Jace took a deep, steady breath. His voice is loud from my position. "All it says is ' _Clary – I'm so sorry_.'"

I nod frantically against his chest. My voice and heart hollowed out. I didn't expect much more. After our fight, I never believed he would directly blame me for anything. He probably never did. It didn't matter. I knew the truth. I knew I failed him.

"You couldn't be there for him, Clary. You do know that, right? Your dads locked you up. It's not _your_ fault." Jace's voice sounded very convinced of that fact. I remembered the heart-shattering words he told me the other day. I wiped at my eyes and slowly sat up, looking at him with an expression of wonder. I wondered. I wondered how he could have said those things to me. I wondered how I never saw that he, too, believed those words.

"Maybe," I said, voice growing emotionless. "But Will's was."

Jace sighed, pulling out his phone like it was a weapon he never wanted to use. He looked at me with cold, grim eyes that seemed very foreign on his face. The gold in the irises was tainted with streaks of exhaustion. "There's somebody you should probably talk to."

"Her name is Tessa Gray."

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guyss! So? THEY FINALLY SPEAK! It killed me not writing it sooner. I think some of you mentioned that I really didn't have them speaking that much in this story. And looking back at it I can see that now. I suppose I focused more on Clary's struggles than Clace, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but for a romance book it can be unsettling. Oh well. So We have one more full chapter and an epilogue if you guys really beg for one!**

**Also, I am stopping fan fiction for a short while after this story. If you have a Wattpad account, check me out. Reader-chic-2. I am currently posting this story on there, but soon I am going to be posting a story all of my own. *gasp* It's a big step and I really don't know how to get my stories noticed on there, so if anyone wants to help me out, feel free. Anyhow...**

 **Can I get eight reviews? Pleasssse? It's almost the end. Let's go out strong and reach 150!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.**

 ***ignore my crying in the background***

* * *

The phone rang three times before she answered. Her voice was soft but held a strong tone to it. I could imagine her expression on a face I didn't know. She was surprised and alarmed, cautious. "Who is this?"

Jace, with the phone on speaker, said clearly, "This is Jace Herondale." A pause. "Will's cousin."

She doesn't speak for a moment. I wait in agonizing curiosity. Tessa's voice had turned cold yet not emotionless. There was a strong wall put up that came with the mention of his name. "Will's cousin," she didn't ask a question. She simply had to test the words out. As if the image was before my eyes, I saw her straighten her back along with the clearing of her throat. "Why am I speaking to Will's cousin?"

Jace spoke carefully, obviously avoiding a subject. "I was reading through his journal, trying to figure out who this girl he spoke so fondly was. He described her as tall, strong, and confidant. Then I came into contact with James."

Through the other line, a tiny, miniscule gasp sounded. It was hardly there but definitely was. I frowned. I never heard of Tessa. Will had few ex girlfriends. It didn't make sense to me.

"I am straight, too, and I am trying to understand why he killed himself. Tessa, it's a lot to ask, but what were you to him?" Jace grabbed my hand. I didn't understand why, but I left it there. His eyes bored into mine with a mix of regret and resolution swirling around, conflicting and caressing each other at the same time. It was worrying.

Tessa had been taken by surprise. Her shallow breaths sounded for full minute before she came to a conclusion. "I was the love of his life up until the day he died. I was everything he couldn't have – everything we couldn't be. He needed me like he needed caring parents, and he couldn't have either." She let that sink in with a pregnant pause, unfinished. "Why must you ask, Jace Herondale?"

I didn't hear his answer. My mind was whirling. She had no reason to lie. Tessa Gray wasn't an enemy of mine until this moment, but even then she was not. She was greater than any enemy. She was his first choice. She was his everything. Suddenly, it all made sense. The constant phone calls to 'Isabelle,' the lack of emotion in his eyes when we kissed, the need for sex any time we were together, how little we spoke to each other, the way he avoided using any terms of endearment – terms of classification. He called Tessa. He spoke for hours with Tessa. He loved Tessa. His girlfriend was Tessa. His rock was Tessa.

I wasn't anything more than a play toy to him. _Everything we couldn't have._ She refused to have sex with him, refused to sin. I could hear it behind her words now. The guilt and betrayal darkened her words, but the faith in her religion shone through with sharp clarity. She was a mix of heated confusion. Tessa Gray wasn't enough for Will. She wouldn't give him enough. Tessa wasn't there for him in his weakest hours. I never was. He never considered me an option to find comfort in. If he didn't consider me an option, there was no way I ever could have helped him.

I didn't kill him.

Jace was still speaking to Tessa. She was crying quietly on the line. My anger surged within me. I tried to quell it with reminders. She sounded just as broken as me now. Her guilt was considerably worse. In mind opinion, it should have been. By turning away his request to be something more, she tore Will's strength and motivation away. In a quick story, she retold the events leading up to his death.

"He called me the night before," Tessa whispered into the phone. I imagined her clutching it with wide, glossy eyes. "I knew something was wrong. Will rarely cried. I tried to help, but I didn't know how. It wasn't just me, but I shouldn't have been a coward. I shouldn't have taken away everything he loved."

"He never mentioned your name because your family would disown you?" Jace questioned. She could have helped him. She could have come over. She knew there was something considerably wrong with him. I even knew it, and I apparently didn't know him all that well. It was Tessa's fault. All she had to do was say she was his forever - that they'd find a way to make it work eventually. That was all he needed. He needed security and a reason to fight for his life against the demons of the world.

Again, my rage took over. I didn't stop it. My hand clicked the 'end call' button just as she started to speak. Jace looked at me quizzically. He studied me.

"What?" I growled. He wasn't happy, either. Tessa's answers didn't appeal to him either. There was a sharp, grading tone in his voice when he had questioned her.

"You're not crying," he noticed. I frowned. I wasn't.

"Should I be?" I knew I should be. Jace just revealed to me that Will had not just cheated on me but used me to. I was the mistress in this situation. I sighed and slumped my shoulders. Now I sat across from Jace, and his other hand reached for mine. I shrugged. "I guess I don't really know what love is."

Jace frowned. "Love is the way you think about your brother. It's not really an emotion of its own. All it truly is…is fear." I looked into his eyes. There was deep concentration pooled in the golden waves, now. He had thought about this before. "Fear of losing the person you love. That's all that love is."

I took a shuddering breath. "How do you know that, Jace?"

His eyes searched mine, pulling the blind emotion from my soul into my eyes to share with him. I felt naked, suddenly, as his eyes undressed my whole essence. Then he said the words.

"That's how I felt when you were up on the ledge." His hands squeezed mine tightly. "It was the horror I faced when they took you away from me for a second time."

His words were sincere. My breath escaped me, ran straight into his heart and bound me to him. He didn't have to say the cheesy words, and he didn't ask me to. It was a statement that held true to him and only him. That was what he knew, and he spoke the honest words to me.

My throat felt clogged, stopping any words from forming. I finally pushed through. "I'm sorry I took so long to come back to you." I crawled forward and into his side. His arm wrapped around my waist and my head rested on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for the world we live in," Jace sighed. It was odd to know I didn't cause Will's death. It gave me the inkling that maybe, just maybe, I was less of a cause of Simon's death. In truth, none of them could really put their blame on one girl. It wasn't her fault. It was society. They discriminated and bullied for the notion that we had different ideas of lust. They caused each of our demons, not anyone else totally. I never really thought about it like that. If I looked at my relationship with the blonde devil, I wouldn't say he caused me to stand on that roof that night. It was my dads and my peers. It wasn't anyone's fault except those of our society.

"Hey Jace?" I whispered after we stared at the wall for a good half hour.

"Yeah, Red?"

"Kiss me." I didn't ask. I demanded. Over were the days I hid while others pushed against me. Gone were the times I didn't stand up for myself. It was time to get what I wanted.

Jace turned his head sideways. He peered at me with an odd look in his eyes. Lust was there, yes, but it was more than that. It was even more than the night we spent together. He was more. When Jace tilted my chin upward, he didn't hesitate. His lips pressed on mine with a burning passion, a hunger I remembered distinctly. It sent a thrill of energy shooting through me.

I climbed on his lap, straddling him. One hand tightened around a fist of red hair while the other scantily made its way down my back. When he squeezed my ass, I groaned and rolled my body into him. His tongue and mine flirted with each other, twisting and tangling. I clutched at his face, keeping me down and steady.

We connected in a way I never thought possible through merely a kiss. It was a fast, passionate kiss, but it wasn't a kiss at all. He was trying to convey to me how completely his I was, and mine he was. With each lick, each peck we spoke letters, which formed words. Our hands folded a story on the other's skin, burning the paragraphs of sweet _amor_ on to flesh.

I moved to take off my shirt, but Jace's hands caught mine. Breathless and surprised, I pulled away and looked at him quizzically. "Oh how I want to…" Jace murmured, looking over my body as if I had my shirt off. His eyes came back to mine a little darker, lustier. "I want to, Clare, but after last time…"

A pit formed in my stomach. I sat back down on his lap with a sigh, but Jace groaned and immediately clutched at my hips and _lifted me into the air._ His face was a mask of fading discomfort. I sucked in air at the realization I probably just squished his dick. Was he truly hard from a little make out session? "Sorry!" I squealed. Jace breathed out a breath of air and smiled cheekily at me. He sat me down a little bit farther away from his groin. "You are asking me…to wait…to have sex with you…for the second time?"

I spoke slowly so he understood that it made little sense to me. Jace flashed me a satisfied grin at the mention of the first time we had sex. He ran a hand through his golden mane of hair, and it made me want to do the same to him. My hand twitched. "Not long, babe," he snorted. "With you around every day-,"

"Every night…" I trailed off, biting my lip. He closed his eyes and threw his head back in a groan. I loved the effect I had on him.

"Just until you're settled here." He ran a hand over my mussed up hair. I blushed and nodded. Jace leaned forward and pecked my lips.

"So…when is the right time to break this news to Maryse and Robert?"

Jace winked and moved his hands down to my ass again, pulling me closer. "Before we start forming a noticable dent in the company's condoms." I giggled involuntarily, and began to lean forward and kiss him again, but then something caused me to jump.

"Now hold on just a fucking minute." Isabelle. Both of our heads snapped towards the open door where Isabelle and Jon were standing. Izzy looked ready to bite our heads off. Jon? Well he looked confused and slightly grossed out. She opened her mouth to start yelling, but Jon cut her off.

"Jace, could you get my hands off my sister long enough so Iz can yell at her?" Jon grimaced and gestured to Jace, who was surprisingly still grabbing my butt. Blushing, I rolled off him and sat to the side. The two before us entered the room further. Isabelle looked like a mix of rage and betrayal.

She motioned to Jace's and my close positioning. "What the fuck, dude?" I blinked. Was she mad at me or Jace? It looked more like him. "You agreed to wait for our intervention _tonight_ to get back together with her!"

"Intervention?" I questioned, looking blatantly at Jace and then Isabelle. "What intervention?"

Jon's shoulders sagged with his breath. "You've been kind of touchy about the whole 'we left you in the attic for two months' thing for a while, Clary." My frown increased. How could they even say that? Just at the mention of that I felt my energy surge.

"You're kidding me," I growled, climbing to my feet. Jace groaned beside me, but I ignored him. "Do you guys even begin to know what they did to me _every day for sixty days?"_

"I told you this was the wrong was to poke at it," Jace mumbled.

"Exactly!" Isabelle screamed, throwing her hands up. She walked closer to me, and I swore if she weren't pregnant I'd shove her back. The thing was that none of them were angry. They weren't disappointed; they were just frustrated. Her eyes bore into mine, trying to express something. "We. Don't. Know."

I was perplexed for a second. She just agreed with me, yet we obviously weren't on equal grounds. It hit me then. They really didn't know. They knew as much of what went on as they did before, which clearly was nothing.

"We can see it in your face, Clary. You think we moved on and forgot about you when you were missing. You think we didn't try to find you," Isabelle laughed coldly, without any humor. "You think I didn't slowly lose my mind because nothing was the same without you. You think Alec and Magnus weren't asking the neighbors about any odd sightings of a girl with red hair. You think the entire band practices were still upbeat and productive without you. You think Jace didn't watch every inch of your house for days. You think Jonathan didn't search every corner inside for a trace of a clue of where you'd be."

I blinked again. I looked at Jace. He was looking at his hands, not wanting to join in. Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest and met my gaze. Then I looked back at Isabelle. She seemed saddened again. "We didn't know where to find you, Clary, or we would have."

It made sense now. In the bottom of my heart, I always knew Jonathan wouldn't abandon me. However, I never expected such reactions from everyone else. Did they really care about me that much? It was kind of hard to believe. However, I could see it in Jace's eyes the day I stood on the ledge. I could hear it in Jon's voice. Alec and Magnus tried their hardest to slow me down. Even poor little Max tried to help.

It made such obvious sense. I was so stupid. How could I have thought that Jonathan knew we had an attic when I didn't? How did I ever expect them to actually find me when I never really was kidnapped? How could I have blamed them for things that had nothing to do with them?

My voice came out in a hoarse sob. "I…I'm so sorry," I rasped. I looked into each other their eyes. Jonathan looked the most relieved. Jace was less concerned because of our previous chat, but Isabelle seemed very surprised she got through to me. I took deep breath. "I didn't know…"

"We love you, Clary," Isabelle sniffled. She opened her arms and pulled me into them. It took me a few seconds to hug her back. Love? They love me. I never thought love was for anyone besides my family.

"I love you too?" It sounded like a question, and Isabelle laughed. Jonathan pressed a hand on my shoulder and kissed my head.

"You can't always count on blood-family, no matter what everyone says. Sometimes, you have to form a new family, Clary," Jonathan whispered into my ear just for me to hear. It shocked me. He was right. I never thought like that. My fathers were to blame, not them. They only helped me. They were still helping me. They took me into their own family. He was right. Sometimes, we have to build a new family. Friends who you can rely on for anything, who will go to any lengths for you are who really matter in the world.

"How could I ever think you'd abandon me?" I breathed deeply, clutching Izzy closer.

A voice rang out from the doorway, and I jumped again, startled. "It's easier to blame those close to you than the ones who are truly at fault," Magnus' smooth, calming voice filled my ears. He was smiling sadly, like he knew the touchy topic we were on. "How are you feeling, darling?"

"Magnus," I broke apart and ran into his arms. He chuckled warmly and kissed my hair. "I missed you."

"I think we've all missed you." He whispered, "Even Alexander." I pulled back and looked pointedly to him. He nodded with a grim smile, like the news saddened me.

"Wow, I need to step up my annoying game," I shake my head, feigning disappointment. Everyone chuckled and I turned around, my arm still hugging Magnus. "I'm sorry." There, I said it once and I probably wouldn't say it again.

"Yes, yes, apology accepted," Jace rolled his eyes, still sitting on the bed. "Now can you all please leave?"

I blushed, trying not to look near Jonathan. "Ew, dude, not cool."

"You did impregnate his sister, Jonathan. I think he has a lot of awkwardness to make up for." Manus wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. I gawked at everyone, disliking how blunt they were being. Suddenly, I turned on my heels and began to walk to the right.

"Clary, dammit, I didn't mean you!" Jace yelled, running after me.

I grinned. "I'm saying hello to Alec!"

When I entered his room, Alec looked like the perfect sheen of health. There wasn't a hair misplaced. He caught my look. "Don't gawk at me. If anything, you're the psychotic one."

Ah, the Alec I knew and loved. Well, I really didn't know Alec that much at all aside from his cold exterior. Nevertheless, I grinned. "I'm straight, what's your excuse?"

For once, I made Alec laugh so much he had to hold his stomach. I giggled as well. Two arms came up from behind me and lifted me off my feet. The breath came out of me as Jonathan swung me to his back. I hugged his shoulders tightly, nuzzled my smiling face into his shoulder. His warmth surrounded me. I couldn't believe how much I had taken him for granted. Jon was my brother. He never would ditch me, even if I begged him to. "Love you, Johnny!" I whispered into his ear, leaning over to see his expression.

An eye roll later he smiled ruefully, "I'll let it pass, just this once." I kissed his cheek, and he squeezed my thighs from where he held me on his back. "Don't put me through so much hell again, Clare. I love you too much."

My heart soared. "Promise."

In the time that it took for Jonathan and I to make our heartfelt vows to one another, Alec had risen from his bed. It was then that I saw the color drain from his cheeks. He eyed Jonathan. "So you're the idiot who knocked up our lead singer," he grumbled. "I would have expected this from Sebastian, but really Jonathan?"

"You're the idiot who caught HIV," he pointed out to the regal, normally rule-stricken guy. Alec huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. It sounded like band banter, but I wasn't sure entirely.

"Looks live we're the only ones smart enough for condoms. Give me some, Red," Jace and Isabelle startled me. I turned around and my grin grew wider. I unlatched from Jonathan to give him a high five, but he took that opportunity to grab onto my waist and lift me into his arms. With a howl of delight, Jace pressed a heavy kiss to my lips.

I cackled as I saw Jonathan flip Jace's retreating form off. He was practically sprinting to his bedroom. The door slammed shut, and in an instant I was thrown onto the bed. Jace had a look only described as 'of the animalistic side of humans.' His eyes connected with mine, asking for permission just this once. My reply?

I snuggled out of my shirt and shoved the pillowed out of the way. A growl ripped from his throat when Jace pounced on me. He dove for my lips, capturing mine with an intensity I missed dearly. But then his hands pulled my underwear back and let them snap against my skin.

Instantly, I flinched, pulling away and tensing. My eyes closed shut as they braced themselves for the sting of a hand, or the slice of a knife. But I knew where I was, and it didn't last long. Still, Jace noticed. He had stopped kissing me and practically was hovering a mile above me. I blushed with embarrassment. "Sorry…some things are worse than others."

Jace's hand cupped my cheek, and all the lingering unease left me with such a simple gesture. I met his fierce, golden gaze. "For me, it's blondes." If it were any other situation, I would have laughed. But I knew the feeling of dread that sank in my stomach at the mere thought of a trigger-event.

I wrapped my hands around his waist, under his shirt. His body rested gently against mine, careful not to break me. I pecked his lips. "I guess we're just a broken couple."

He raised one eyebrow, hiding all his emotions the best he could. Hope seeped through, however, and my body grinned because of it. "Couple?" Jace gave me a lingering kiss.

"I love the sound of it, too, Jace," I laughed, running a hand through his curly, silky locks. He tilted his head and frowned, not mirthful in the least. His eyes said it all, with the open, free gaze he had.

"I love you." Out in the open, Jace said the words I never expected to hear from the boy in the hot car across the street from me.

My mind drifted back to that day. I was so fed up in my own world. On those days, I worried about changing my outfit from my masculine clothes to my feminine clothes. It was ironic that now I was lucky to be provided with any clothes. He was hot, that much I knew. There was the panic of stuffing down the hot burn in my core, and then there was the thrill of welcoming that thrill. I never remembered wishing he was the one who was strait, most likely because I never would have been able to resist such angelic features. And I didn't.

Looking back on it after seeing the grand result, I felt embarrassed for worrying over such little things like that. I was on a set path, I supposed. If Jace hadn't pulled up across from my house that evening, would I be free and where I was now? I knew for a fact I'd be homeless or scouring the streets, but would I still be free and independent? Would Jonathan have had the guts to come out? Would our parents still believe the lies we sprouted?

I didn't know. I was just glad he was here to help with the aftermath he'd caused in my life. Jace Herondale was both a blessing and a curse – welcomed either way. He was the devil's angel. He was _my_ devil's angel. I wouldn't have had him any other way in this messed up world.

"I love you, Jace. I really, really do," my smile wavered with nerves. Jace blinked back surprise. I leaned forward and kissed him, hesitantly. After a second, Jace reciprocated with double the passion, keeping the pace safe and slow. Soon. Soon we would be back to normal.

But it still wouldn't be normal, and that was okay. Jace would never forget the way my eyes glistened with tears as I stood on the windowsill. He would never forget the way I clutched to his chest for life, taking his strength in me just to hold myself together. He would never forget the many times I'd pushed him away. And I would never forget any of it. I'd never forget that blood only runs so deep, that family didn't always have the best interested at heart. I'd never forget that I was still good enough to be loved, that everyone was no matter what. I'd never forget the hands that beat me or the ones that loves me; I'd never forget the difference in those two. I'd never forget that hiding who I was only hurt me more in the end.

I was who I was. Nobody should try to change that. If they did, they didn't love me. They only loved the idea of me. Though that thought stung, I knew I deserved better. Everyone deserved better than that. It took me a while, but I found people who loved me for me, no clauses or ifs. They loved me, every single part of me.

* * *

 **A/N: Everyone cry with me now. I'm so sad it is over. I hoped it didn't let you down. Honestly, this was the first story I ever completed and felt decent about the ending. I'm glad I didn't do this halfassed. Overall, I got a little crazy with the characters' personalities and kind of deviated from the romance side of it a tad, but I am proud of this. I'd loved to hear your thoughts and opinions of my story overall. You can totally disagree with me and hate on me. I just want to hear honesty.**

 **Also, I wrote a shitty epilogue, so I deleted it. If I can get a TON of reviews, I'll gladly rewrite a good one. I need to know if** **y'all are feeling some sex scenes or cute scenes? Lemme see a grand finishing of…THIRTEEN reviews for an epilogue! Pls, just to end out the story on a good note!**

 **P.S.: Long reviews can count for two! :) Love you all so much. I am sad to leave this fandom because you are such amazing reviewers! 3**


End file.
